


Closer?

by introverted_potato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ADHD Lance, Alcohol, Boys Are Dumb, Canon, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Gay, Gay Keith, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Insecure Lance, Insomnia, Intoxication, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith is lonely, Keith's mullet is a private entity, Klance Week 2018, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance is smooth af, M/M, Manscaping, Mutual Pining, Orphan Keith, POV Alternating, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Romance, Slow Build, This is my life now, Touch Starved Keith, Trouble Sleeping, Voltron, alcohol use, bi lance, did i mention gay?, emo keith, gremlin pidge, help voltron has consumed my lifee, homesick Lance, keith is angsty, keith is sexy af, keith raps fergalicious, klance, klangst, lance's hips don't lie, oh the klaaanngst of it all, oh well, percy jackson referances, pidge is small but holds much rage, shakira is his idol, someone help these boys out, super gay, this is not how tags work, vld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/introverted_potato/pseuds/introverted_potato
Summary: Keith is plagued with chronic loneliness, never feeling like he's able to let anyone in and feel safe. In the refuge of nighttime solidarity, he finds he is able to relax his guard and not fight to keep his walls up.Unfortunately, this leaves him unprepared when he encounters his fellow paladin at late hours and finds himself feeling a uncharacteristically vulnerable. (inotherwords - lance is a beautiful godsend angel that wants to make people happy and is good for keith's emo self. Plus keith is good for lance, they're just good for each other ok?)





	1. What’s Weird About Nighttime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first fic ever. I just need to get some klangst out of my system, but let's be real ill never be done with these boys. I hope this goes well, short first ch just to set it up, let me know how i do? like im just scared ok? these boys deserve the best. ok ok ok here we go. (praying for this to be worthy, ok people?) ok leggo.

Lance tosses over for what feels like the hundredth time in his bed, exhaling in frustration. He lifts his head, pushes the pillow into a better form and wraps his arms around a large cluster of blanket. It’s no use. The room is eerily silent and the clumped blankets don’t do a good job of mimicking what he’s looking for.

Back home, Lance’s bed would always be shared by Finn, his German Shepherd. As a puppy he would always sleep in Lance’s bed, curled up in the crook of his arm. When he was a kid, Lance would try to time his breaths with Finn’s, feeling the swell of the dog’s stomach under his arm, and soft fur under his chin. Breathing in time with Finn would help him fall asleep, and focus his overactive mind on a simple calming action.

Finn would be what...8 now? Picturing the familiar canine face with eyes looking upward, mouth hanging open in a big grin with his tongue out, put a lump in Lance’s throat. He felt a sting in his eyes and aggressively rolled to the side to push away painfully nostalgic thoughts of home. There was no way he was going to sleep now.

He fixed his eyes on the digital clock set into the wall. A few weeks ago Pidge, the genius that she is, had programmed the display to work in an Earth time cycle rather than its standard Altean setting.

 

2 am.

Ew.

 

Lance groaned loudly and resigned himself to rolling off the bed onto the floor. Maybe eating would help? Lance remembered that Hunk had experimented with baking in the castle’s kitchen again yesterday, and miraculously created something resembling a chocolate chip cookie. Maybe there were still some leftovers. Lance’s stomach grumbled; anything that wasn’t Altean goo was a delicacy.

Clicking the button on the wall and heading out his door, Lance began the journey to the kitchen. The dimly lit hallway hummed with the energy that powered the castle. The gentle lull was preferable to the silence of his room. His restless limbs seemed to appreciate the movement; he had too much anxious energy to sit still.

To his luck, Lance found a full plate of Hunks creations still left on the counter in the kitchen.

Score.

He leaned on the counter taking a large bite out of a cookie and sighed with satisfaction. It was hardly comparable to his mother’s home cooking, but it was sugary and almost chocolatey. This is what he needed.

He rested his forearms on the counter and let his shoulders sink down into their support.

 

“Lance?!”

 

Lance jolted upright and spun towards the door, and the direction of the intrusion.

Keith stood at the kitchen entrance, dark eyebrows raised in obvious surprise. Somewhere in Lance’s brain he noted that the other boy was still in his jacket, shoes, and totally unnecessary-in Lance’s opinion- fingerless gloves.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Codnt leep,” Lance murmured, mouth still full of the almost chocolate chip cookie. He swallowed. “Why are you awake?”

“Insomnia.” Keith stated matter of factly. His arms crossing, hip popping out in that classic angsty Keith pose.

“Um, sorry?”

“Eh, it’s whatever. I’m used to it.”

“Sorry.”

Suddenly, Lance felt out of place. Like the fact that Keith was always around at night and he wasn’t, meant he was intruding. He normally loved giving Keith and his ridiculous mullet shit, but now he just felt thrown off.

“Alright, well see ya tomorrow,” Keith awkwardly said, crossing the room and heading towards the common space where the paladins typically hung out.

Lance stood uncomfortably, slowly chewing on a second cookie, his previously relaxed state forgotten.

There was something weird about nighttime. How it just felt like a more vulnerable time to encounter people. Also the brief conversation with Keith had been oddly comforting, the fact that he wasn’t the only one who couldn't sleep and there was another conscious person in existence while Lance was feeling out of sorts.

Normally Lance couldn’t stand Keith - okay, maybe that was wrong. He could stand him. He just kind of enjoyed making fun of him. The annoyed pout Keith would make with stormy eyes, and bottom lip jutted out childishly. It was kind of...cute. Was that the right word? Ya, Lance didn’t know how else to describe it, Keith’s pout was cute.

He knew the other paladin found their constant bickering more than a little annoying. That’s why Lance did it. Back at the Garrison, he’d gotten used to being compared to Keith and his notorious piloting prodigy abilities. Early on, he was made aware who Keith was, and spent a large amount of time mentally measuring himself up against the standards the guy set for him. Before Keith was kicked out, Lance would stare at the dark head of hair a few seats in front of him in the classroom, obsessing over what made the other boy _tick_ . What motivated him, what empowered him, what made him _so good_. Not to mention, why all the girls always fawned over him. Sure Keith was attractive, but what made him so much better than Lance? He was rude, angry, and aloof.

The point was, he was always aware of Keith, only to find out, Keith scarcely ever knew who he was. When they first officially met, Keith didn’t even recognize his face from around the Garrison. Now he couldn’t help but treasure the moments when Keith was made aware of him. He needed Keith to see his every accomplishment, needed him to acknowledge when Lance’s laser gun hit a target or when Lance accomplished a cool flight maneuver in Blue.

Lance couldn’t stand not to be noticed by people. He spent so much of his own time thinking about others and trying his best to be a positive presence in their life. Lance’s greatest fear was being annoying, which somehow managed to make him be just that a lot of the time with the people he cared most to impress. It was an impulse, like word vomit, he couldn’t help himself from the easy bickering and teasing just to get some kind of reaction from Keith.

He always regretted it later, and would try to be less, well just less less. He was always too much. And he couldn’t help himself, his body just went on autopilot before he could catch up to what he was saying or doing, reacting childishly and emotionally to whatever was around him.

His mouth tasted sour, spoiling his enjoyment of the cookie.

He wish he could just grow up and get a handle on himself. Especially when it came to interacting with people and not scaring them away with his spastic nature. He knew he was better than how he came off. Sometimes, after realizing he’d said or done something stupid, he could feel his body crumpling inward, trying to minimize the space he occupied. He felt so large in these moments, like he was suddenly aware of how much space in a room was filled by his loud personality.

He would imagine his voice ten times louder than it actually was, echoing obnoxiously around a room and automatically assumed the worst. He was too much. He annoyed people. He was unhelpful, a distraction, and he wasn’t wanted. He really cared what people thought about him and how he made them feel.

No matter who they were. He even cared how he made Keith feel.

 

For all these reasons, and a few reasons unknown to him, Lance found himself grabing 2 more cookies in hand and following Keith’s earlier path across the floor.

Keith was lying on one of the couches, knees bent, and forearms raised up holding a book.

Lance uneasily cleared his throat, causing the other boy to look up in confusion.

“Do you..a..do you mind if I join you?” No response.

 

~

 

Keith was unprepared for this request and it had his brain moving in slow motion. Lance hated him. Why the fuck would Lance want to spend a moment with Keith of his own free will?

“Just like sit...for a bit?”

Oh that’s right, he needed to respond.

“Ya ok sure.”

Keith found himself amused by Lances obvious discomfort and the politeness of his request. Lance was usually so immature and hyperactive.

Lance sat on the couch opposite of Keith and pulled his legs up into a pretzel, gingerly placing the cookies in his lap.

“So uh, why couldn’t you sleep?”

“It’s too quiet.” Lance said after swallowing.

“Like at home, there’s always noises. I have a big family, and someone is always still awake when I go to bed, playing music or moving around. Or the dogs are moving around. The cat doesn’t make much noise.”

“You have a cat and dogs back home?” He normally found little interest in Lance’s chatter, but Keith missed animals. They were usually his go to for escaping social interaction with people. A loving furry animal in your lap was such a nice buffer against the more demanding and tireless chatter of people.

“Ya!” Lance’s face lit up fondly. “The cat’s a grey tabby named Shakira. Our black lab is Han solo, and my baby Finn is a german shepherd. My brother also has a snake named Gandalf.”

“Ya one of the foster families I stayed with had a cat named Leia, I was kinda her favorite around the house.”

Pause.

Shit did he just…

“Foster family?”

Fuck. Keith hadn’t been asked about himself in so long. He completely forgot his #1 rule. Never say anything in the least bit personal. He shifted, uncomfortably, opting to sit up in a more guarded position.

“Uh ya” He said dumbly.

“I’m sorry, I know the foster care system can be really rough.”

Oh. That wasn’t exactly the response Keith had expected.

“Thanks.”

Keith hadn’t wanted to go there, he knew it was obvious in the way he was crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, Lance took the hint.

“I named Shakira when we picked her up from a shelter, she was already old enough to have the typical catwalk down, she even sways her hips a little bit when she walks so the name really fits.” Keith’s tense shoulders were relaxing. “Plus she’s an obvious diva.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Hey I can’t help it if I have a flair for the dramatics, flawless good looks, and Mariah Carey’s vocals.”

“I have heard you singing in the shower, and I would greatly beg to differ.”

There had been more than one occasion on which Keith had heard the cuban boy belting out a cringe worthy rendition of an overplayed pop song in the shower. It’s not that he was a terrible singer per say, just maybe, over enthusiastic and ambitious for his natural range. Keith would never admit the longer than necessary stop he’d taken in the hall outside Lance’s room to listen to the private concert.

“Plus you forgot your overwhelming humility on that list.”

“Hey, you can’t be humble, when you got _this_ much talent.” Lance flashed his patented overly cocky smile.

Finishing the last bite of his third cookie, Lance lay back on the couch, looking relaxed with what had surprisingly turned into easy banter.

“I miss having animals around, they’re pretty easy company, I even just sit with Kaltenecker sometimes. Her holographic meadow is actually pretty nice.”

Fuck why did he say that? Lance was going to make fun of him for this for sure. Why’d he have to share his secret little safe space in the castle, Lance must think he’s so weird, sitting around with a cow.

Wait, why did he care what Lance thought. _Lance_ , arrogantly spread out across the opposite couch with cookie crumbs down his shirt, loose sweatpants hanging off his hips, shirt bunched to the side, and absentmindedly playing with the string of his sweatpants, fingers grazing over the flat of his tan smooth stomach...and..no. Nope. Not starring. Not checking out _Lance._ Uh-uh.

He jerked his head away trying to clear it and look anywhere else in the room.

“It _is_ actually a pretty nice spot. Allura even programed the room to mimic the noises and breeze of a nice open field.”

Lance hadn’t made fun of him. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Keith.

“And I get missing animals. Finn always sleeps with me at home, I miss feeling him next to me.”

Lance was an easy talker, he was so open with personal details and stuff didn’t come out so awkward as when Keith said it. Just keep him talking about animals, ask him more about his pets Keith thought.

“I’m not really a snake person, but I like the name.” Keith had had too many run ins with angry rattlesnakes during his time in the desert. Not to mention the time he’s discovered a discarded snake skin in his shack, and refused to reenter the small building for an entire two days.

“Really? I don’t discriminate. I mean depends on the snake, but I can like snakes. I’m sure you would like Gandalf in you met him. He’s really just a big softy.”

Keith didn’t know how to respond to this version of Lance. It was normally so easy to respond to him. Sarcasm and heavy sighs had become automatic responses to anything out of the other boy’s mouth. But this Lance was softer, and Keith never knew how to respond to friendliness.

He often ran away from the possibility of people being kind to him. Not because he didn’t want people to be kind, but because it was too foreign. He never responded quite right and the impact of a few kind words often hit Keith a little too hard. It was like he’d spent most of his life suffocating, and any small gentle human interaction was a moment of reprieve, a little bit of oxygen. And while his lungs craved for that small breath, he was too alarmed by the way he would gasp to it. He’d grown used to suffocating and any other state, any small break in from the constant weight on his chest, was terrifying. The too loud breath he would take might leave a window for someone to see how broken he really was. How wrong his insides were put together.

Keith swallowed. Why was he this flustered? He wasn’t normally like this around Lance, he was just being so nice and patient and...he had totally diverted the conversation when he saw that Keith was uncomfortable hadn’t he?

“I think I’m gonna sleep now,” Lance said sitting up. He extended his arms above his head and yawned, stretching. His T-shirt briefly rose up to brush over his tan skin. Keith totally didn’t notice.

Obviously he needed more sleep, last night he’d gone to bed around 5 am and the fatigue was obviously impairing his judgement.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused in the doorway. “Thanks for talking, it was actually kind of nice.” Lance smiled in a genuinely kind way. And those flashing white teeth and sparkly eyes did funny things to Keith’s chest. And Keith dumbly found himself smiling back. “Ya,” he stammered.

_Good job Keith, real eloquent._

 

Keith didn’t linger long, briefly after Lance left he figured he should try to get more sleep tonight. In recollection he wasn’t sure if the talk with Lance had really happened, it felt so surreal. Lance had been really nice, and somehow the recollection of his fond smile and nerdy pet names pulled on Keith’s chest. Made him feel, somehow, warm? Kinda happy, he thought.

He worked his way back down the quiet hallway, worried that any sound would shatter the previous moment. This same quiet had provided cover for Lance to be a little more exposed to Keith, a little more human. A little more likeable. Quite likeable his tired brain thought.

There was something weird about nighttime. How it just felt like a more vulnerable time to encounter people. Keith always prefered the night for this, found it normally his solitary time, when the rest of the world slept and he didn’t have to fight to keep his walls up anymore. And somehow Lance being there for it had been ok. Lance had taken control of the conversation with his easy chatter right before it had pushed too hard on Keith’s boundaries. Normally Lance’s endless conversation was a slight annoying background noise in Keith’s day. Somehow tonight Lance’s voice was a protective covering for Keith’s small moments of vulnerability to hide under.

Keith walked into his room, clumsily yanking his boots off and working his way towards bed. The clock read 3:30 am, better than last night. He removed his gloves, put them on the side table and pulled off his cropped jacket, tossing it to the floor.

It’s funny how the tired mind can pull forth images you don’t consciously summon. Totally random, working it’s way towards the aimlessness of dreams.

The random image that flickered across Keith’s mind as he closed his eyes and faded to sleep was that of Lance, lazily sprawled across the couch, long fingers dancing through the string of his sweatpants, playfully smirking. White teeth glinting against dark skin.

Smiling right at Keith.

Weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that was a short chapter, just to open up to some countless possibilities (wiggles eyebrows mischievously). I have more in depth pining and complex situations planned for the near future of my beloved spicy paladins. Next chapter should be up in a few days.
> 
> Tumblr : @ohmyquiznacks  
> I am klance trash, terrible artist/video editor but i try because I'm too obsessed to stop myself


	2. “Fictional” Crushes and Single Ladies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was stupid. He could feel his cheeks heating up and his stomach turning. He waited for Lance’s reaction. There was none, just some more conversational whiplash. Lance easily continued the chatter as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number two is here...thank you so much for the kudos and comments on ch 1, I love you guys so much you are absolute angels. 
> 
> I hope some of y'all have read Percy Jackson, firstly because it was my childhood, secondly because I decided too reference it. I am crossing my fingers and praying to the Voltron gods you like this....enough of my insecure disclaimers..what will be will be.

“Lance!” Pounding on the door.

“Come on buddy, Allura wants us all on the training deck today. Ready to get electrocuted by an invisible maze?”

Lance pulled his head off the pillow yawning.

10:00.

Wow he usually didn’t sleep so late, he had been out cold after getting to bed last night...or this morning.

“Lance?”

“Alright Hunk, I’m coming.”

He actually felt pretty well rested, all things considered, not having taken the usual troublesome hour or so to actually fall asleep.

 

Coming into the large training room, Lance discovered that the rest of the paladins were already there. He quietly walked up behind the familiar dark hair and popped hip, leaning his head down just barely over Keith’s shoulder.

‘Scuse me hon, but are you wearing space pants?”

Keith spun around in surprise.

“Cus your ass is out of this world!”

Lance snickered.

Keith glowered.

But despite his usual look of annoyance, he didn’t look _that_ pissed off. Lance took his place in the lineup wiggling his eyebrows at Keith.

“We’re _in_ space, nitwit.”

“Aw, come on babe, is that the thanks I get for being friendly?”

“Alright lance, keep it to a minimum today. We really need to improve our focus and teamwork in the lazer exercise,” Shiro glanced in his direction, and asserted his dad voice.

Lance raised his hands in the air under Shiro’s mildly disapproving gaze, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Alright guys, get in formation, Allura’s gonna be powering up the bots soon.”

Walking forward, Lance took his place between Hunk and Keith in their outward facing circle.

“Hey man, did you eat some of those cookies I made? I was kinda planning on having them for breakfast.” Hunk eyes looked pained by the loss of the delicious treats and Lance felt his heart sink.

“Aw, I’m sorry buddy, I’ll make you some more tonight.”

Lance was already planning on staying up late again, seeing as it helped him sleep so much. Not to mention he kinda wanted to keep up the momentum in actually becoming friends with Keith. The night had provided an alternate habitat for their normally clashing personalities. Without the competition of missions or practice Lance hadn’t felt the need to be confrontational. And the silence left by the absence of the rest of the team had given just enough space for the two paladins to have an actual conversation. In a neutral environment Keith and Lance had been able to get along.

“Alright paladins,” Allura’s voice echoed from above in the room’s control center. “Remember, the goal is for as many of you to survive as long as possible. Protect your teammates as well as yourself. The record is 4 Dobash and 32 ticks, with Keith being the last one standing. Try to keep a few more of you alive this time?”

“Alright Gloves, I’m gonna make that 5 Dobash.” Lance raised his bayard and smiled challengingly.

“In your dreams, McClain” Keith responded smirking.

“Guys the point is to work as a _team_ remember? Not compete” Pidge called over her shoulder.

The clock clicked downward. 5 ticks.

Lance looked at Keith.

Keith looked at Lance.

Lance winked.

“Go!”

 

For the first Dobash, they all managed to stay alive pretty well, protecting each others backs. Pidge was the first to go, disappearing through the floor after catching a laser in the shoulder. Having spun to help her Hunk tripped, trying to duck from an unexpected lazer in the back.

Lance, Keith, and Shiro closed into a triangular formation.

“Stay alert guys.” Shiro raised his robotic arm to deflect a laser headed towards Lance’s neck.

“Duck, Keith,” Lance said, He aimed his bayard gun, stunning the bot in front of Keith.

Keith nimbly rolled out of the way, kneeling to raise his sword and deflect another laser. Unfortunately his movement opened up the triangle, exposing Shiro's back. Oops. Down went Shiro.

The exercise increased in difficulty with time, and while there were less paladins, more bots entered the field. Lance bent at the waist, limboing under a passing laser. Quite gracefully if he might say so himself. He came to kneel behind Keith.

“Ready McClain?”

“Born ready Gloves.”

In unison the boys rolled left onto their feet, spinning around to defend each other's blind spots. Back to back, they maneuvered their way around the circular attack radius.

“Duck”

“Left”

“Back”

Why didn’t they always work like this? Lance wondered, they were _crushing_ this exercise.

“Eat my cuban ass,” he called triumphantly, catching a droid directly on its main panel and effectively disabling it.

“Aw yeah, take that you dumb robo-Keith!” Keith ducked without hesitation, the lazer meant for him squarely hitting Lance in the chest. Fuck. Lance felt the floor pull him downward into the room below. 2 ticks later, Keith landed on his butt a few feet away breathing heavily.

For a moment the boys just sat there looking at each other, catching their breath and smiling in exhilaration.

“Who did you say was gonna be the last one standing, McClain?”

Lance blinked, “What?! I could’ve let that laser hit you!”

“Your mistake,” Keith said grinning and standing to leave the room.

“Wha-your insufferable!” he called to Keiths back, and found himself standing alone the room, still trying to catch his breath. Seriously? If that’s all the thanks he gets for covering Keith’s back... Ugh... he’d clearly forgotten how annoying the hot headed red paladin was.

 

8 Dobash and 51 ticks, almost double what their record had previously been. Despite Keith’s utter lack of appreciation for Lance’s generous comradery, that record was pretty good. Only _slightly_ tainted by the egotistical Keith Kogane being the last one standing. Lance jumped up, wiggling his hips in a quick victory dance. Allura and Shiro were very pleased. “Nice work, man” Hunk said patting him on the back.

Pidge was a bit skeptical.

“Okay, one of you isn’t the real Lance or Keith. Clearly you’ve been possessed or body snatched.”

Lance turned to head for the showers. “That record is thanks to me and my excellent sniper skills,” he said passing Keith. Making sure the smile he flashed was extra big.

Keith just gave his typical eye roll, and huffed out a breath. “Debatable.”

“Nevermind, their systems have rebooted to their standard settings.” Lance heard Pidge say as he headed down the hall.

 

~

 

Okay so last night had been a fluke. Lance had been his usual annoying self today. And yet he hadn’t really made Keith’s blood boil. His teasing was less annoying and more friendly causing Keith to actually reciprocate it a bit. They hadn’t even glared at each other over dinner once. Seemed like Lance actually remembered _this_ bonding moment...Maybe? Keith could never be sure.

Keith was always bad with social cues, but he had a feeling this wasn’t just him being clueless. Lance was like 3 different people. There was the cocky, flirty, obnoxiously loud Lance, (this Lance seemed to be present 90% of the time). There was the strangely mature Lance that made insightful (though sometimes overly complex) plans for missions, and encouraged the other paladins and team members when they were at their lowest. And lastly, there was the Lance that somehow had wormed his way into Keith’s silent nighttime solidarity, a presence that felt so natural and comfortable that it easily could have always been there when Keith was alone. This was the same Lance that had spoken the words _“we are a good team,”_ with a small trusting smile, and a hand clasped around Keith’s.

Of course, Lance had passed out after that, excusing himself with some kind of concussion amnesia, and Keith had assumed that these words and gesture were executed deliriously and therefore could not be trusted as authentic. But last night had made Keith replay that moment in his head, that infamous ‘bonding moment’, that ‘didn’t happen’. There was something about Lance’s demeanor last night that pulled this memory forward. The way Lance’s eyes had softened, his gaze brushing Keith with a wave of sympathy when he said, _“I’m sorry, I know the foster care system can be really rough.”_ Keith found himself again lingering on that last version of Lance. Again considering its existence. How much Keith _wanted_ that version of Lance to exist. Wanted to hear that Lance say more nice things to him. Wanted to hold that Lance’s hand.

Keith rolled over on his bed.

12:00.

Everyone else should be asleep by now, except for maybe Pidge. She sometimes stayed up fiddling with sciency stuff late at night. She was a night owl, somewhat synthetically due to the help of some Altean caffeinated drink. She’d been pretty addicted to coffee back on Earth, and unfortunately had not suffered withdrawal long before finding the substitute.

 

Keith grabbed his book and started down the hall. Sure he could stay in his room all night, but he liked the freedom he felt wondering around the castle while everyone else slept.

Passing by Pidge’s room he found that there was no light shining around the cracks in the door. Guess she’d called it pretty early. Well, early for Keith anyway. His perception of what was ‘late’ at night was a little different than most peoples.

He found himself kind of wishing Lance would stay up late again. As much as he cherished the comfortable solitude he found at night, he liked the way Lance’s easygoing chatter and effortlessly fit in to that usual comfort. Not to mention, Keith actually felt like he had gone to sleep on a good note last night. He normally couldn’t sleep because of his wandering mind and lonely thoughts. Last night he also hadn’t been plagued by his usual stressful dreams.

Talking with lance had been surprisingly comfortable, and it had lulled him into being less alert and on edge. He’d actually slept for several hours straight without waking, a rather rare occurrence.

Keith entered the elevator, selecting to go to the second floor. He’d go sit on one of the common space couches again. During the day, Keith was easily overwhelmed if there were too many voices and bodies in one space, and he liked visiting the same spaces when they felt more empty open, and quiet.

When the elevator doors opened Keith thought he heard the quiet hum of music far off. What the...

Heading down the hall, the music grew louder and it sounded...like pop? That couldn’t be right. That would mean it was Earth music, and how would that be playing on the castle’s Altean system.

It was coming from the kitchen.

Keith edged hesitantly towards the door and peeked in to see a messy countertop of bowls, spoons, and various open bags of ingredients. Someone had made a bit of mess.

And there was Lance, back to the door, mixing bowl in arms. He was stirring the bowl to the rhythm of the music, hips absentmindedly swaying back and forth,

“Don’t pay him any attentiiooon..” Lance was singing along to...Beyonce. What the fuck?

_‘Cause I cried my tears_

_For three good years_

_You can’t be mad at me_

 

Lance spun around, ladle in hand as a makeshift microphone. Spotting Keith, he made eye contact and did not miss a beat gearing up for the chorus. “‘Cause if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it! Don’t be mad once you see that he want it!”

Keith raised his eyebrows. So, still definitely not Mariah Carey class vocals, but Lance was obviously enjoying himself.

He put the bowl and spoon down on the counter and sauntered over towards Keith. Oh no.

“Hey mami, come dance with me.” Lance bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

_Oh oh oh oh oh_

_Oh oh oh oh oh_

Lance was grabbing Keith's wrists and pulling him into the kitchen. “A woah oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh! Come on Galra boy, I know you can move more than that.”

“I don’t dance. McClain.”

Lance pouted dramatically, and headed over to the wall sliding his fingers down a small screen and quieting the music.

“I take that as a challenge. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but I will get you dancing at some point Emo Tea.”

... _What the fuck_ was Emo fucking Tea? Lance’s nicknames were getting out of hand. Keith cautiously worked his way over to a stool, strategically placing the counter in between him and Lance so that he could escape if Lance tried pulling him into dancing again. He placed his book facedown on the table, hiding the cover.

“You couldn’t sleep again?”

Lance had turned the music down to a comfortable volume for talking.

“And miss out on keeping you company? It would be cruel of me to deprive you of that privilege.”

Why did that make Keith smile?

“Plus, I told Hunk I’d bake him some more cookies after depleting his stash last night.”

Lance turned back to pulling dough into small balls and placing them onto a cooking sheet.

His hips continued swaying absentmindedly to the quieted Single Ladies track. Keith liked the way his hips moved and noticed the movement of Lance’s back muscles under his grey T-shirt. Not that he would admit these observations to himself.

“Wait, how are you playing this right now?” Keith pointed upwards in general reference to the music in the room.

“Oh ya, remember that shop at the space mall that specializes in stuff from earth? Well I found an old ipod, shop owner thought it was worthless, and Allura and Pidge found a way to wire it into the Altaen sound system. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Ya. you need any help?”

“Naw, I’m about to stick these in the oven and then there’s not really much else to do than wait.”

“Ok.”

Thank god. Keith had never done anything in a kitchen besides make a peanut butter sandwich. He didn’t need Lance making fun of him when he realized how helpless Keith was with food.

“There we go,” Lance placed the last dough ball on the tray and carefully carried it over to the oven.

Turning towards Keith his eyes landed on the well worn book. “Hey whatcha reading?”

Fyck no. Keith quickly reached for his book but Lance leaned across the counter and swiped it out from under him. Oh no. Keith froze. Of all nights. Why had he brought _that_ book? He couldn’t imagine anything more morbidly adolescent. This was it. So much for being friends with Lance. Any cool points he could have possibly had would be washed away in a second.

Lance’s face lit up “No waay!” Oh no. Oh god. Keith just wanted to disappear.

“The Lightning Thief?”

Peak embarrassment reached.

Keith felt every muscle in his body tightening in discomfort. Keith could never grow out of his love for his early childhood fiction books. He couldn’t stand realistic fiction or non-fiction, he read to escape reality, not learn about it. Sure, he’d read more adult things as he grew up, but they never provided the same thrilling escape from reality. That childlike joy never went away. How lame. He was an 18 year old boy reading a fantasy book about kids with godly superpowers. He braced himself for the inevitable impact of Lance’s mockery. He prepared himself for the worst, for..

“I love this series!”

...for anything but that. Keith sat in shock, this was a joke, right?

“I’ve read these books like 500 times over.” Really?

“They were literally, my favorite! Like I would reread them because I just didn’t want to be done every time I finished the series.”

“Really?”

“Ya, especially because I had ADHD and I love the way that was flipped into a positive in the book.”

How was Lance so good at talking about himself, so trusting? It made Keith feel comfortable, like every time he talked to Lance he became infinitely more familiar, like they had been friends forever. Not to mention, every time he braced himself for mockery and judgement only to receive friendly understanding and personal details, was giving him some serious whiplash.

“When I started school I just couldn’t sit still. I really wanted to focus and pay attention, and in theory it was supposed to be easy, but I just found myself unable to sit still, completely unaware of whatever was being taught, and then I read these books and it was like literally _everything_ I would get frustrated with myself over was like this secret power. Like all the half bloods were ADHD because it made them better fighters and hyper aware in battle.”

Keith felt himself relax, leaning against the counter as Lance spoke.

“I loved Percy’s narrative, he was just so likeable. Kind of my first fictional crush, helped me start to realize that I was g-” Keith stopped himself. Okay _so_ not relaxed anymore. Shit. How did Lance have this superpower of making him just babble things about himself before he even realized what he was saying.

It’s not like Keith tried to hide that he was gay. He just always felt awkward in how your supposed to share that information. ‘Hey, I’m Keith, I’m super gay’ wasn’t really an ideal way to introduce yourself. Keith was pretty sure some people picked up on it, Pidge had right away. But just blurting out his stupid fictional love for Percy Jackson to Lance of all people? That was stupid. He could feel his cheeks heating up and his stomach turning. He waited for Lance’s reaction.

There was none, just some more conversational whiplash.

Lance easily continued the chatter as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“I know right? I mean, I always just pictured Percy as super hot. Like it’s never explicitly said but like, messy jet black hair, sea green eyes, come on. It’s not hard to picture him being gorgeous. I was in love with him.” Wait, what? Lance was…

“I mean ya, I though Annabeth was pretty hot too, you could tell she would totally have that girl next door, doesnt try to look good but looks insanely good type aesthetic.”

Lance was bisexual. More expectation-defying whiplash.

“You’re..?” Good job Keith, ever the linguist. True, Lance mostly flirted with girls, unresentful so with Allura, but now Keith recalled the way Lance’s eyes seemed to linger on Shiro’s biceps and sculpted jawline. Not coincidental after all.

“What?” Lance stalled in his excited chatter.

“Sorry, I just thought you were gonna make fun of me for reading that.” It was a slightly embarrassing confession, but did a good job of covering what he’d actually been about to say, and his obvious misinformation on Lance’s now obvious sexuality.

“Are you kidding? No you just earned like fifty points in my book.”

Keith found himself exhaling in relief.

“Hey you know, your bayard sword is basically Riptide, and you’ve totally got the stylishly messy black hair down. You’re basically Percy Jackson.” Keith was pretty sure he didn’t have much in common with the funny, rambunctious, and outgoing son of the sea, if anything that seemed a lot more like Lance….actually Percy was quite a lot like Lance...except the latter was obscenely cocky and annoying…. _obviously._

Some small part of Keith’s brain took note of Lance being like his fictional childhood crush...weird.

Lance leaned over the counter, face suddenly inches away from Keith’s. Keith could see the subtle constellations of freckled sprinkled across the tan skin of his nose and the deep blue of his irises. Keith found himself freezing for the hundredth time tonight. He thinks he forgot to breathe.

“Are you the son of Poseidon? ‘Cause you’re making me wet.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows devilishly, obviously pleased with himself.

Keith scowled. He was not about to be affected by Lance’s usual flippant flirting.

“Aw come on, Mullet,” Lance said leaning away. “You know that was good.”

“It’s not a Mullet,” Keith grumbled.

Lance frowned and opened his mouth to argue but..

“I think your cookies are burning.”

 

“Fuck!”

Lance sprang towards the oven, pulling it open to release a cloud of smoke.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” He dropped the tray on the counter, frowning childishly at the rows of blackened discs.

“Well, Gloves, guess this just means you’re blessed with more of my wonderful company while I make a second batch.”

Lance smiled up at Keith, shooting him a quick finger gun motion with a click of his tongue. Keith was kinda glad the cookies burned, even if the kitchen smelled like smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked, responses and feedback are really appreciated.  
> Lance dancing to single ladies is too easy for my to picture, he is a golden ray of sunshine and goodness in Keith's angsty life. 
> 
> For reference:  
> Ticks: roughly a second (slightly longer?)  
> Dobash: roughly a minute (slightly shorter? )  
> Varga: roughly an hour  
> Quintent: roughly a day = 20 vargas
> 
> ...just in case you're not totally adapted to measuring Altean time cus i sure as hell am not


	3. The Water Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and him were just getting along, and for some reason he was being haunted by the vision of that broad chest, and the sensation of soft skin, over taught muscle, pressed against his hands.
> 
> Gay. Gay. Gay. Gay.
> 
> Stop being so fucking gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck please don't hate me and my cheesy ass. Also Keith has some major denial here. Once again, thanks for all the Kudos. Hope you like it, my darlings!

#   

Again, Lance felt well rested.

These late nights with Keith were really helping. Not to mention they were actually friends now. Never in a million years had Lance imagined _that_ happening.

Keith had just been the angsty loner one, highly competitive, and annoyingly serious all the time. The type of person to make Lance feel self conscious and question himself. But in the past few nights, Lance had made Keith laugh and open up a little bit. Lance was beginning to realize that he was really just shy and insecure, not at all the arrogant arch nemesis Lance had made him out to be.

Keith was always so standoffish and reserved. Lance had thought it was because Keith was full of himself and thought he was better than Lance. But if you’re constantly moving around the foster system, never really calling any one place or people home, Lance assumed a person wouldn’t exactly be trusting and open. Lance theorized that Keith’s loner mannerisms were really just a defense mechanism, developed over years of fending for himself and not having people in his life to trust.

The more Lance got to know Keith, the more he liked him, and his new activity of choice was drawing Keith out of his shell. He wanted to be the one to thaw away Keith’s shell, see what was hiding behind his eyes when they weren’t completely covered by his thick bangs.

Lance was good at that, he considered himself a pretty friendly guy, and his humor and happy go lucky attitude tended to put people at ease. He always prided himself that when he put in enough effort, he could get along with most anybody.

Having been lost in thought, he zoned back into the present moment where he was standing in the main control room. Allura and Shiro were posed at the edges of a large holographic image displaying the Galra empire and discussing different bases and planets within the area. The rest of the team was crowded on the opposite side of the widespread intergalactic map.

The team had already defeated a small fleet and freed a nearby planet belonging to their new allies, the Arteks, this week. Coran and Pidge were currently developing some technology to disable Galra ships within a certain radius. Other than that, they weren’t really doing any major fights, what with Zarkon still recovering and Lotor just kind of mysteriously disappearing again. What a _great_ ally he was.

“Well paladins,” Allura started, facing the whole group and minimizing the holographic map. “I move that we should have some free time. After rigorous training yesterday, and our recent encounters this week I think we’ve all worked hard and deserve a break while we have the opportunity.”

Lance could swear he heard the space mice cheering in a series of small squeaks on Allura’s shoulders...although maybe that was just his brain making noises to rejoice in the idea of a space vacation.

“Coran and I managed to redirect the gravity in the pool room so that the water situates in an Earth fashion, if any of you would like to try swimming.” She looked pointedly at Lance, who was probably the sole reason the gravity was fixed due to his ‘relentless whining’ and ‘incessant complaining’. Lance would describe it more as _persuasive requesting,_ but as long as he got to swim, it didn’t matter how he’d gotten the pool fixed.

 _Ohhh yes._ Lance hadn’t gone swimming in soo long, last time he tried to use the ship’s pool he’d found it sitting on the ceiling.

“Also, Hunk, we hoped you might be able to take some time to show Coran and I some Earth cooking methodology. We figured upgrading the supplies in the castle’s kitchen would offer more nutritional variety of greater value to the team’s diet.”

“Ya sure, Allura. I’ll have you guys at top chef status by the end of the day!” Hunk practically beamed and cracked his knuckles readily, already switching into head chef mode.

“Ok ok ok, can I go to the pool now?” Lance felt like a small child at the dinner table waiting to be excused so that he could go play.

Allura smiled at his annoyance, “Alright paladins-”

Lance was already bounding across the room towards the exit so Allura had to shout after him.

“We will have some more training tomorrow afternoon, enjoy the rest of the-”

Lance didn’t hear the rest.

He was speed walking full force towards his bed room. Oh man, he could already feel the cool water against his toes and surrounding his body. He just wanted to submerge his head into that world of calm. Water embraced you, caressed over your skin, and sheltered you from all the stresses of the world above.

Lance had grown up on the Cuban beaches, spending all day in the ocean, chasing waves with his younger cousins, Mina and Miguel, or surfing with his sister Elena. He would stay in the water until his fingers pruned up, and the sun started to set. “Niño de agua,” his mother would mutter as he came, last to the table, for dinner. Her lips would purse together but tug up at the edge, hinting at her fondness.

So ya, Lance missed swimming. And also his family. But right now, one of the those two things was available to him.

 

He was in and out of his room, changed into the unused blue swim trunks from his closet, and rushing back down the hall, towel in hand, in a matter of seconds.

He once again set a brisk pace, spinning around the corner back towards the elevator, crashing head on into a certain surprised red paladin.

 

~

 

Keith automatically put his hands out to prevent the unexpected oncoming collision, and jaulting to a stop in the hall.

Looking at what his hands had prevented him from crashing into he saw a lean tan chest, dotted with subtle freckles. Looking up he realized, oh.

Lance was shirtless.

Lance was shirtless.

Ya, you already acknowledged that dimwit, Keith thought trying to clear his head.

And your hands are still, very unnecessarily, on him. Fuck.

Keith quickly pulled his hands away like Lance’s skin had burned him.

“Hey, sorry about that buddy, I was just headed to the pool.”

Keith carefully tucked his hand into his arm, crossing them, and trying to will away the lasting sensation of warm skin under his fingertips.

“Hey!” Lances eyes lit up. “You should come! Seeing as our last trip to the pool was such an undertaking and we didn’t even get to go in.”

Ya, how could Keith forget having to shimy their way up the elevator shaft back to back. It took forever because Lance wouldn’t coordinate his steps up the wall in time with Keith’s.

He found himself saying,

“Ya sure”

To which he had the level of intelligence to add a “maybe” on the end.

“Alright, see you later, Mullet” Lance called over his shoulder, already heading down the hall and whistling to himself as he entered the elevator.

Keith headed down the hall. Eager, for some reason, to abandon the site of the accident.

In time with his steps, he muttered, “stupid, stupid, dumb, dumb, stupid, stupid…”

Reaching the door to his room, he entered and sagged against the wall.

He shook his head trying to clear the fog that seemed to have descended on his rationality.

Lance and him were just getting along, and for some reason he was being haunted by the vision of that broad chest, and the sensation of soft skin, over taught muscle, pressed against his hands.

Gay. Gay. Gay. Gay.

Stop being so fucking gay.

 

Keith sighed.

He could do this. It had just been awhile, trapped in space, and him and Lance were getting along. Lance was being nice, he _liked_ Lance being nice. Keith wasn’t good at people, he’d never had many good guy friends, or friends in general really.

He was not going to fuck this up.

He should go swimming with Lance.

Sit back and watch those broad shoulders and long arms pushing through sparkling water…

 

He _should not_ go swimming with Lance.

 

He should get his shit under control.

 

Go practice on the training deck, exercise, exercise would be good.

Swimming is exercise, his useless brain argued. Lance and him were friends, right? Friends go swimming with friends?

Come to think of it, were Lance and Keith friends? Or were they just not rivals anymore, and Keith was so socially deprived that he was reading too much into Lance being nice.

How do you ‘friend’. What is it that makes someone ‘friend’. This was new, completely going against Keith’s nature and well established loner defence mechanisms.

 

That’s it.

 

Keith steeled himself and strode across the room towards his closet. He was being stupid. Who the fuck cares if him and Lance were ‘friends’ or not? Who the fuck cares if he stared at Lance’s chest?

Keith was being stupidly hormonal and angsty and it needed to end now. This was just a weird day, ok? He’d been alone in space too long, and he definitely did _not_ have a thing for Lance. Ok?

He was going swimming. Because why the fuck shouldn’t he?

 

….

 

“Hey! Nico de Angelo, you made it!”

Lance actually looked happy to see him, and Keith felt an inexplicable bit of relief. He rolled his eyes at the nickname but couldn’t deny the accuracy of it this time around. He was no Percy, but he was probably a _little_ similar to the broody, gay, emo younger demigod...ya just a little similar.

Keith strode over to a chair by the wall to put down his towel and shoes. When he turned around, all he could see were two tan feet, barely clearing the water’s surface. Lance was doing a handstand. Of course he was.

Keith edged towards the pool and dipped in a toe hesitantly before sitting down on the edge and dangling his legs into the water. It was actually pretty warm.

A good 10 feet away, Lance’s head broke the surface with a gasp after holding his breath. He gulped in air and quickly dove back into the water like a frickin dolphin, his feet kicking up behind him. Under the water he seemed to be propelling himself in complex spinny maneuvers and underwater somersaults. Keith scoffed, his obvious enjoyment and enthusiasm were just so childish.

Keith relaxed into the feeling of the water lapping at his legs as he slowly dangled them back and forth. He looked up at the high ceiling and the way light was bouncing off of the water and reflecting up there. The reflected light danced in light blue streaks above him with the motion of the pool. There was something about water that was so calming.

 

In one of the foster homes Keith had stayed in, there was a bathroom lined with light blue tile. Keith had found safety in that blue tile. He would lean back his head against the cool wall of the shower, water rushing over his back, and gaze into that blue tile. The sound of the water consumed his thoughts and he would be completely enveloped in blue and water.

It was the one place he felt safe, cradled from every fucked up turn his life seemed to take. It was the one place he could close his eyes without worrying what he would miss that might sneak up on him in his blindness. And it was the one place it had ever been ok to cry. Guaranteed that no one would see him and the water would forgivingly carry away whatever tears danced down his cheek.

In 6th grade when the kids at school scrutinized his hand me down clothes, small faces screwed up in mocking disgust, Keith had cried in that shower. A girl had kindly offered that Keith should ask his parents to go shopping, which had only led to Keith’s confession “I don’t have parents”. As soon as the words were out, Keith was bombarded by all the connotations his mind carried with that phrase. It seemed everyone else in the world was tethered to people, strings attaching them to a life where they were cared for and loved. Keith only floated, attached to no one, with no anchor points in the world and no reason to be there.

He didn’t cry all day, just felt an acidic burn in the back of his throat and a harsh sting in his eyes. But he was not going to let the tears of the lonely bleed into the precious lives of those that were loved.

That day, Keith turned on the shower and couldn’t hear the gentle catches in his breath as the water pounded on blue tile. Didn’t hear himself cry, because the water washed it away. And Keith was left slowly breathing, with head bent against cool, loving blue tile.

 

“Boo!”

Keith startled, looking down to where Lance was right in front of him, having silently worked his way to the pool’s edge. Lance smiled evilly and flicked water up onto Keith’s bear chest and arms, then gasped in mockery. “Oops.”

Keith hated being jarred from his thoughts and hated even more being snuck up on unprepared. He couldn’t stop himself from growling “Goddammit, Lance. What’s your _fucking_ problem.”

Keith knew he’d messed up when he saw Lances hurt expression, mixed with the surprise of hearing the menace in Keith’s voice. He took a deep breath, grounding himself back on the edge on the pool, and pushing away his automatic annoyance.

“Hey, Keith sorry...I didn’t uh…” Keith was gonna fix this. Lance was his friend, or Keith wanted him to be his friend.

“Lance.” He worked to soften his voice and hault Lance’s stuttered apology. His change in tone got Lances full attention and his gaze was met by widened blue eyes.

“I must be the son of Poseidon…” Lance’s eyebrows slowly moved in growing confusion. “Because…” In the blink of an eye Keith reached into the water and flicked his hand upward towards Lance’s face, causing Lance to flinch away and splutter with a different kind of surprise. Keith couldn’t help giggling...alright that’s it for the Percy Jackson references. Keith swears it.

“Why you little….” Lance spun around, using one arm to hoist himself up to Keith’s height on the ledge of the pool and using the other to hook around Keith’s neck and pull him forward.

Embarrassingly enough, Keith made some kind of strangled squeak as he crashed into the water. It was somewhere between an over aggressive gargle and the sound he imagines a surprised asthmatic chipmunk would make.

A full scale splash fight ensued, with both boys grappling to dunk the other’s head under water. Keith had always had the upper hand in hand to hand combat with Lance but they were in water and Lance was going full on mutant merman on his ass. Keith moved sluggishly through the pool while Lance seemed to find little resistance in the water’s weight, moving just as nimbly as he did on land.

Everytime Keith thought he’d managed to gain some leverage, Lance would easily dive away and strike back quickly. Keith was breathless, and tiring. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Lance overpowered him, and he didn’t think he’d be able to survive the shame of _that_. He moved away from the aquatic battlefield and lifted himself back onto the side of the pool, chest heaving and lungs burning from some ingested water.

“Alright, I’m gonna go wash up.” He was trying desperately to not let his voice convey how out of breath he was. “Pidge wants me to try out this new video game she programmed.” He walked over to his towel and shoes before Lance could pull him back into the water.

“Oh come on! Are you surrendering all ready Kogane? Never thought I’d see the day, Keith Kogane ran away from a fight.”

“I’m not surrendering, I just have better things to do with my time than to humiliate you in hand to hand combat _again_.” Keith snorted as he worked his way over to the large doorway.

“Nuh-uh, not buying it. I won. I beat Keith in a fight. I’m counting it.”

“Eh, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Keith feigned disinterest as he made his retreat, throwing the words over his shoulder.

 

~

 

 _You help me sleep at night,_ Lance had thought after Keith left. Out of context, the thought sounded kinda weird, but like it wasn’t like that. Stayin up having some quality bro time just helped Lance sleep. Nothing more than that.

After finishing his shower, Lance found his way into the kitchen where he discovered a very distressed Hunk.

The kitchen was quite a mess, and that’s saying something coming from the guy infamous for creating hurricane level disaster sites in a matter of minutes. Lance spotted bits of green goo splattered on the walls and tables. Not even the ceiling had been spared. It was truly a masterpiece.

Among the collection of discarded tools and dishware, Hunk was huddled, head in hands. Lance felt a pang in his heart at his friend’s crumpled form.

“Hey, buddy. What happened? Did the ship have another malfunction with the goo machine?”

Hunk looked up and managed a weak smile at the sight of Lance. “Naw. Actually this was me. I have faced my first failure as chef extraordinaire. Some people just aren’t meant to cook.”

“Um, there’s a difference between not being meant to cook, and creating Jackson Pollock pieces with food. This takes some level of skill.” Lance said gesturing in a wide and appreciative arc around the room.

Hunk looked sadly up at the splattered ceiling. “I guess you could say that. Although I think Alteans should just never touch kitchen appliances. I was trying to develop a power food smoothie, that would provide healthy energy and simply taste _awesome._ ...you know, something simple for their fist cooking task. No _actual_ cooking required. Allura didn’t realize a blender needed a lid...and Coran just got a bit too excited with everything that should be added to the mix. I turn my back for one second....I may have gotten a little mad and kicked them out. But you know how I am with food, man. Flavor combination is not something I take lightly”

“Naw, I get it buddy. This is your art, it needs patience and professionalism. Which is why, next time, I would be honored to volunteer as your sous chef.” Hunk scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the word ‘professionalism’ used in reference to Lance.

“Lemme help you clean this up.” Hunk’s expression turned grateful and he pulled Lance into a hug.

After quite a few dishes and some interesting acrobatics to remove the smudges of goo, the kitchen was almost as clean as it had been before the incident, and Hunk was in much better spirits.

“So lemme guess, you spent 90% of the day in the pool?”

“Of course I did. Also Keith joined me.”

Hunk’s eyebrow raised again.

“I beat him in a water fight.” Lance said beaming.

“You guys seem to be getting close.”

“Yeah we’ve actually been pretty good friends.”

“Friends, huh?” It was Lance's turn to raise his eyebrows.

“....um...yeah?” Yes. Right? Why was Lance not so confident in this answer?

“Alright, bro, whatever you say.” Hunk sighed before his face lit up recalling something. “Oh man, wait til you see what Pidge found! Tonight’s gonna be fun.”

“Wait what did Pidge find? Is this another weird Altean gameroom in the castle?”

“Better.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Just wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What does pidge have?  
> Let me know your reactions, always love to hear your feedback.  
> Next chapter should be fun, featuring some more major denial. (These boys need help)


	4. Altean Libations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all..I give you..some intoxicated paladins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A discombobulated Pidge was really self indulgent, hope you enjoy her impassioned drunkness as much as I did  
> Also fergalicious just really struck me as one of Lance's jams  
> ...one Lance dance scene really wasn't enough for me, two probably won't be either...im sorry I'm such klance trash

“I give you…” Pidge paused for dramatic emphasis, “Altean libations.” She held up a bottle full of a vibrantly colored violet liquid, somewhere between the shape of a wineglass and the shape of a beer bottle. The bottle was perfectly clear with a small turquoise (the signature Altean color) label. It was later that night, and all the younger paladins were gathered in the common space for Pidge’s big reveal.

Pidge held the bottle to her face and frowned at the label. “From what I’ve managed to master of the language from those horrible hologram lessons, this says something about the alcohol content...I’m not sure what…but I know for a fact that it _is_ booze,” her triumphant, shit-eating grin returned.

“Masterfully swiped from Coran’s secret stash. Apparently the man is very fond of rewinding from a mission via bubble bath and Altean spirits.”

Lance strode across the room to snatch the bottle from Pidge and scrutinized the Altean label (as if he would be able to understand a word of it). “Uh-uh, nope. I will not allow it.” Lance conjured his best ‘adult’ voice.

“Pidgeon, you are far too young for this. I will not have your innocence corrupted in my presence.” He carefully held the bottle out of the reach of Pidge’s limited height.

Pidge glared at him. She was perhaps the only person who could rival Keith’s glowering ability, and Lance could swear her glasses glinted as her stare hit him with a force that could melt his face off. Using the offending nickname probably hadn’t helped. Still he did not move his arm, even as Pidge’s muscles tensed like she was about to tackle him. Lance held his ground and tried to keep his disapproving gaze steady.

Pidge was like a little sister to him. And Lance was nothing if not protective of little siblings. He thought about his siblings and younger cousins back home, about how they were all probably growing up without him there to watch over. Mina had probably already had her first kiss by now. Ariana was probably going to parties. His heart stung a bit. He wished they could stay young forever, preserved in that perfect picture of innocence and purity that they were in his head. He hated how often people grew up too fast. Childhood was not valued as highly as it should be these days.

“Really Lance?” Hunk chided from his seat on the couch, “It’s not like your the perfect image of sobriety. And in my humble opinion, Pidge is far more mature than you.”

“Wha- betrayal, Hunk, _betrayal!”_

Pidge’s posture relaxed, and she fixed Lance with a sarcastic expression that suggested he was in fact the childish one.

“I’ll have you know that I am 18, which, if I recall correctly, is the legal age of adulthood and legal age of alcohol consumption in Cuba.”

Pidge sighed in exasperation, eyes landing impatiently on the bottle still held above her head.

“Lance, we’re not in Cuba, we’re in _space_. Pretty sure there is no legal drinking age in space. So I think I’m good to go.”

“What would Shiro say?”

Pidge snorted, “You gonna tell Shiro that you were drinking?”

“Well..no.” Actually, Lance was pretty sure Shiro wouldn’t care, but that wouldn’t exactly help his argument. Shiro was probably more concerned about them being shot down by a Galra fleet than the four younger paladins partaking in some more typical teenage shenanigans. He had a bit more extreme concerns than the typical parent, as the paladin’s designated ‘space dad’.

“I mean…” The bored voice came from where Keith was leaning against the wall. He was positioned as far away from the rest of them as he could get. Typical.

“Pidge found it, it’s kinda up to her who gets to have any.”

“Really?! Am I really the only responsible person in the room right now? What is happening to the world?!” Lance dropped his arm in dramatic defeat. Appalled by the lack of support from his friends.

Pidge smugly snatched the bottle back and went to uncap it. She shifted her stance to get better leverage, her arms shaking with exertion as her fingers pulled harder at the cap. “Ugh...fuu..dumb…quiznack...Lance? Would you be so kind as to…?”

Lance sighed. He took the bottle and easily unscrewed the top.

“I loosened it up for you.” Pidge grumbled before taking an experimental sniff. She eased the bottle to her lips and took a tentative sip. Her eyes lit up and before and of them could stop her turned the bottle entirely upside down. Lance just stared.

“Uhhh Pidge…” Hunk said uneasily. “Maybe you should take it easy. Didn’t you say, you _didn’t_ know how strong that stuff is?”

“Alright, Pidge, that’s enough.” Lance yanked the bottle away.

Pidge wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “It’s not like we don’t have more” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t think that was all I swiped, did you? What kind of thief do you take me for?” Pidge walked over to Hunk and as they all watched, pulled out a case with two more bottles from its hiding place behind the couch.

Pidge hiccupped, the bottles in her hand clinking together with the motion. Her other hand flew up to her mouth in surprise and she looked down as if confused by her body’s, perfectly normal, response to chugging half a bottle of alien booze.

 

Hunk and Lance shared the remainder of the first bottle between the two of them, choosing to situate themselves comfortably on one of the couches. To Lance’s delight the drink was delicious, carrying none of the harsh burn of Earth alcohol, and instead sliding smoothly down his throat, leaving a sweet fruity taste in its trail. He also soon discovered just how strong Altean alcohol is, when after only the first few sips he felt a familiar and pleasant haze encircle his mind and gently work its way through his blood stream. He cautioned himself to take it slow, and was surprised to find his buzz intensify as the alcohol was slowly metabolized. So really quite strong then, he concluded.

Which brought his attention to the smallest paladin, plopped on the floor in front of them, swaying back and forth slightly as the rest of them listened to her drunken rant.

“...see the science of it makes sense. The computer literally _disintegrates_ you, completing an analysis and building a pattern for your atoms. Then it...like..rebuilds you atom by atom at the destination point. Like, these fuckers are literally destroying themselves, and letting a carbon copy be created to fill their place...Just so they can travel a few hundred miles! Who fuckin voluntarily does this shit?! What the quiznacks..”

Pidge’s face was a dark shade of red as she caught her breath from her uninterrupted spew of nerdom. Lance still wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about and he honestly didn’t care; her passionate outrage was pretty enjoyable regardless. He could even see a small smirk tugging at the corners of Keith’s mouth where he sat on the opposite couch, having slowly been drawn out of his corner. Needless to say Lance wanted to keep up the current entertainment and the fact that it was a total ‘I-told-you-so moment’ for him, given Pidges current state of intoxication.

“Pidge, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Star Trek, Lance, _obviously_ ,” Hunk said, looking at him and trying to stifle laughter.

“Thank you Hunk! At least _someone’s_ paying fuckin attention!” Pidge seemed to have missed the sarcasm in Hunk’s tone and was too preoccupied with her impassioned rant.

“Like all the problems with telepo-telepor-tion..teleportion” Pidge frowned as she slurred around the word. She huffed before her eyes lit up.

“Teleportation!” She cried victoriously, eyes flaring wide at Lance and pointing to him, in answer to his earlier question. Lance tried to keep a straight face when he met her gaze, and immediately was choking down laughter when she looked away. Pidged moved her head to glare accusingly at the floor.

“Fuckin duplicated people, or fucking atom pattern malfunctions where people were-get mrrged together.” She seemed to be having greater difficulty with her pronunciation. The swaying of her upper body had also become more violent with her growing distress.

“And we all know what the Holodeck is really used for! I mean come on..interactive holographic imagery, used to mimic any real life situation...Duh!” She finally seemed to give in to the gravity she had long been fighting, and fell backward, flushed face looking up to the ceiling. “Those kinky fuckers were getting off on some holographic sex fantasies!”

Lance lost it. So did Hunk.

“How dare you quiznacking laugh at me!” Pidge cried from where she was lying on the floor. “I am inee….ineee...inebriated!!!”

Lance clutched his stomach, struggling for breath and felt tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. He felt Hunk’s shoulders shaking beside him.

“You will regret laughing at this. Mark my words.” The power of Pidge’s threat was diminished by her slurred words.

“Whatever you say Pidgeon.”

Lance got up to access the panel on the wall by the door, and tapped the screen until music entered the room. He felt his hips sway and let the music ripple through his body, rejoicing in the beat that echoed through his foggy mind. He swayed back across the room, stopping to collect the other two Altean bottles, tossing one to a surprised Keith who, of course caught it, (perfect reflexes and all) then looked at it for a second in debate before gingerly placing it by his feet. Lance shrugged. God knows Keith could relax a bit and have some fun, but he wasn’t gonna force him.

He leaned back on the couch and offered the other bottle to Hunk.

“Nah man, I’m good, and you know I gotta take it easy with these things.”

Lance did know. He recalled a particularly unfortunate night at the Garrison with Hunk leaning over a toilet and Lance going back and forth to the sink with cups of water like the good friend he is. Hunk didn’t hold his liquor too well. Didn’t hold anything too well. The big guy’s stomach was just as sensitive as the rest of him.

Lance unscrewed the lid and took a probably too long swig of the fruity liquid. The stuff was just so damn good, it made it hard to monitor himself. He felt himself sinking into the nights embrace, his warm space next to Hunk, the lull of the music, and the gentle tingling inside his head.

 

~

 

Keith looked across to where Lance and Hunk were curled up on the other couch. Lances legs were sprawled across Hunk’s lap and his arm was tossed casually over the back of the couch. Keith felt a familiar ache in his chest. It was an ache he always felt when he saw people close to one another, when he saw people _comfortable_ with one another. Understandably, this frustration came up a lot around Lance. Lance was a touchy feely kind of person. He was constantly throwing his arm around his teammates, or patting them on the back. He made the small moments of contact look so natural.

Physical contact was a complicated topic for Keith, he both yearned for it and feared it with intensities that he didn’t quite understand. Part of it was that he so desperately wanted those small affirmations of familiarity and trust with people. He wanted to be held, to be hugged, to be close and trusting. But he couldn’t be. Keith didn’t trust, didn’t feel comfortable, and when it actually came down to the moment that someone patted his shoulder, even if the gesture was light, he felt his skin bristle and muscles tighten uncomfortably under the point of contact.

In a way he was jealous of Lance. The constant casual way he embraced those around him frustrated Keith to no end. Looking at Hunk and Lance, perfectly at ease in each others company, unreasonably fascinated Keith. He was sure that to other people the scene looked perfectly mundane, but to Keith he always felt himself thinking _how do people do that?_ It was a lonely distant thought that made him insecure in his separation. He felt so detached from the way other people functioned. He just couldn’t do that.

And because he was lonely and because parts of him never stopped begging for a good hug that he never got, Keith got angry. Anger was easy, uncomplicated. The familiar rush of heat, drowned out the more aching and unbearable emotions. It put the world in a clear divide of black and white, _them_ and him.

This was part of the reason Lance got under Keith’s skin like no one else when they first met. He was everything Keith couldn’t achieve-warm, loving, friendly, open, carefree, the opposite of lonely….happy. So Keith had simplified it by making Lance everything he hated.

Things got slightly more complicated ever since Lance was making it a hell of a lot harder to hate him. Keith could no longer drown out all the other thoughts with blinding anger. Seeing Lance and Hunk curled around each other was bringing back all the other shit he couldn’t quite wrap his head around in full force. He felt _jealous_ \- not of Hunk of course, just of their ability to be close.

Keith found himself breaking his usual controlled character and reaching for the Altean bottle on the floor. He just wanted to fill the ever more apparent gaping hole in his chest.

 _Fuck it,_ he thought.

He raised the bottle to his mouth and took a few large gulps of the thick sweet liquid.

It didn’t take long, his face felt flushed, and he kept feeling the urge to smile. He felt bubbly and warm and content. His usual unease and discomfort melted away. The normally obvious boundaries between him and other people, were blurred out of focus.

 

He was lying across the couch, not quite sure when he had shifted positions, but his normally rigid limbs were dangling lazily off the side and he felt the urge to giggle. Of course he didn’t.

Across the room Lance was dancing to...it took Keith’s brain awhile to place the music...Shakira. Oh my god, of course. Keith inwardly groaned but also felt his heated face break into a large grin. His eyes rested on Lance’s long limbs and broad shoulders. He forgot to not let himself stare.

Lance was lip syncing, giving an over the top rendition of the pop star’s persona. Batting his eyelashes seductively and popping his hips out to the beat.

“ _The signs of my body”_ Lance ran his long fingers up over his flat stomach, mocking a sexual dance.

Dear god. It was supposed to be comical, Lance was being an idiotic goofball. And Keith couldn’t look away, and did not have the awareness to realize how long he’d been staring. The warmth in his cheeks felt feverish. He felt the heat all over his body. He really should look away. He didn’t.

Lance worked his way around the space in between the couches, completely oblivious to the world around him. Inadvertently, he tripped over the Pidge sized lump on the floor. The lump groaned.

Lance landed on his stomach and broke into a fit of giggles. Again Keith found himself smiling, he liked that sound, it rippled over him, made him feel more bubbly than he already did.

“I hate you.” the lump grumbled.

Lance rolled over and pulled the lump into his chest. “Awwwe Pigeon, I love you too,” he drawled.

Keith had an errant thought that something about this action might’ve bothered him, but everything was too warm and fuzzy for anything to bother him right now.

“Get off Lance. I will not hesitate to bite you.”

Lance sighed, “I’d hoped you’d be a more affectionate drunk.”

“Nope.” Pidge yawned.

“Alright, Pidge, I think this has been an eventful night for you. How about I help you go to bed.” Hunk arose from the couch and stretched. “I’m callin it.”

“I don’t need a fuckin escort.”

“How about you stand up then?”

“Maybe I will.”

Pidge didn’t move.

“Or maybe I’ll just sleep here.”

“Un huh….” Hunk leaned down and hoisted the green paladin up into his arms easily. Her body jolted awake and her legs started to kick.

“I’ll walk! I’ll walk! Jesus Christ put me down!”

Hunk turned around to Keith, “Night Keith.”

“Mmm” Did he just make that sound?

Hunk laughed.

“See you guys tomorrow.”

“Hunk, put me down this instant! I am not travel sized by choice, and certainly _not_ for your convenience!” Her grumbling continued out the door and down the hall.

 

“Oh my god! Fergie my girl!!” and just like that Lance was jumping back to his feet. “Fergalicious definition make them boys go loco!”

Lance jumped up on the couch and strutted down its length. Feeling less tired than before Keith pulled himself up into a sitting position. It appeared he was about to be treated to another one of Lance’s private concerts.

Lance spun around and made eye contact with his audience, making a show of playing up the diva persona once again.

Keith actually knew this song. It was one of the few songs on the beat up second hand ipod he’d had at the beginning of highschool. Of course he’d hated it at first, wasn’t really his style. But as he gradually learned all the words, it had grown on him to the point where he took secret pride in his mastery of the rap verse.

Fuck. Keith suddenly realized Lance was making his way toward him.

_Baby, baby, baby_

_If you really want me_

Lance pointed to himself with a cocky smile.

_Honey, get some patience_

_Maybe then you'll get a taste_

Lance rolled his hips. Fuck. Somehow this was really not good for Keith’s health. Lance was just fooling around and clearly had no idea of the effect he was having.

_I'll be tasty, tasty_

_I'll be laced with lacy_

_It's so tasty, tasty_

_It'll make you crazy_

Keith felt like he was going crazy, and the fuzzy alcohol state he was in was not helping.

“Come on Keith, I said I wouldn’t give up on you dancing.” Lance pouted his lip dramatically.

“Do Fergie proud with me.”

“I don’t know this song.”

“Liar, I saw you mouthing the words.” Fuck, had he really been doing that?

Miraculously, Keith felt a dangerous surge of confidence. He did his best to deadpan and sag his limbs like he wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon. He heard the music gearing up for that rap verse he horrifically still knew the words to. He felt the buzz of alcohol in his veins, clouding his head. Most of all he felt Lance’s body inches in front of his own. He felt those beautiful beautiful blue eyes on him. His logic turned off. _Hit it Fergie._

In a move Keith couldn’t comprehend how he’d managed to accomplish so agily, he jumped back onto the couch in a half squat, fully facing Lance.

“All the time I turn around brothas gather round. Always looking at me up and down looking at my-” Keith parted his lips, raised a hand to his head and feigned a swoon-“uhh..I just wanna say it. Now, I ain't tryin' to round up drama, little mama. I don't wanna take your man.”

Keith jumped up so he was fully standing, doing his best to mirror Lance’s flirtatious dancing on the opposite couch moments before. “And I know I'm comin' off just a little bit conceited. And I keep on repeating how the boys wanna eat it”

He was talking and moving so fast he didn’t have time to catch up to what he was doing, or the fact that he was doing this in front of another living breathing soul. He just kept rattling words off. And it was like Keith had blacked out for just this moment, lost all sensibility and impulse control, and he was just having fun.

Gradually, as the lyrics slowed down, moving back into the chorus, Keith seemed to re enter his body and catch up to his actions. He froze. _What the fuck?! What the fuck!_ Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

He looked down to Lance standing on the floor below him. Lance appeared to be frozen too. His deep blue eyes were staring widely at Keith like he was an alien-which..ok ya, that figure of speech was no longer applicable, note to self- and his jaw seemed to have come unhinged.

What the fuck had Keith just done?

 

~

 

Lance exploded.

Well no not literally. That’s just how he would describe himself in this moment. He could picture it, where his head was supposed to be there was now a plume of smoke, like a cartoon, when a characters eyes bug out of their head and swell up and moments later, boom. Like they’d had an information overload. That was Lance, he couldn’t comprehend what he had just seen, so he was having a mental explosion.

“D-dude...” he didn’t know what else to say.

Keith glared at him. “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will personally hunt you down and kill you.”

That looked more like the Keith he knew.

Lance raised his hands in defense. “Hey, deal. If I get to be the soul survivor and witness to this miraculous incident, I’m honored. “

Keith’s face was pretty red.

“I mean, I will get to see it again, right?”

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh come on. I finally got you dancing, now I’m gonna expect it every time. Speaking of which, I thought you said you _couldn’t_ dance?” Lance couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice.

“I never said I couldn’t dance.” Keith was starting to look pretty pleased with himself, despite his initial embarrassment. “I said I _don’t_ dance.”

This just wasn’t fair. Keith was already good at everything else, why did he have to be able to dance like that on top of the rest of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was just really self indulgent and I spent longer on the four drunk paladins than planned meaning I have to save the drunk klance moments for the next ch. to keep my lengths somewhat consistent.  
> Next chapter will probably be a roller coaster of angst and fluff.


	5. Just breathe...or not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy was he lonely…
> 
> ...when he took the time to notice the feeling.
> 
> As hard as he worked, Keith didn’t want to be isolated. Especially not now. He wanted to let Lance’s arms pull him in closer. Wanted to be surrounded by the clean vanilla smell, and soft sighs by his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith needs therapy.

Not long after Keith’s overwhelming performance, Lance decided it was time for more alien booze. You know...just to cope with whatever Keith had just done to his now liquidated brain.  

They were sitting side by side on the couch, passing a bottle back and forth. The music fallen forgotten into the background of their conversation.

“I don’t know. It was the first time I was away from my family, and I started to get in a low spot..just feel kinda empty.. but Hunk managed to fill the space. He’s a good friend.”

Lance’s heart always warmed when he thought of his best friend. Being away from his family while trying to cope with the competitive environment of the Garrison had been really rough for him at first. Hunk was that perfect dose of sunshine he had needed at that point in his life. They managed to make eachother laugh like no one else, and fit into each other's lives so naturally, it had been like Lance had found a long lost family member. Together, Hunk and Lance could make a home away from home for one another. He was really lucky to have found him. He could feel himself smiling fondly as he talked.

“I wish I had that.”

Lance was brought tumbling out of his own thoughts by the confession let slip through drunken lips. He took in the boy beside him.

Keith’s look was vacant, staring straight ahead, bottle in his hand forgotten. Lance decided he really didn’t like that look. Didn’t like the way Keith’s eyes were somewhere else, as if looking into the past.

“Hey.”

Keith’s gaze slowly turned to meet Lance’s. And man, that look was even worse when Lance was looking straight into those eyes.

Keith’s eyes were like looking into the night. At first glance it just looks dark, hooded, mysterious, and sometimes scary. But if you took the time to let your eyes adjust, or just looked a little bit closer, there were things hidden in that darkness. And just as many beautiful things to see as in the day time. Nighttime isn’t just dark, it’s a blend of deep blues and purples, Keith’s eyes were deep purple. And right now they looked young, scared, sad.

This was not a look Lance would have ever expected to see in Keith’s eyes, and he hated that they showed it so well, with a kind of passive familiarity.

“You wish you had what?” Lance asked softly.

And just like that, Keith seemed to come out of his daze, like he was just now realizing he’d said that aloud, and Lance was sitting in front of him to hear it.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

Lance watched the night close back up, swallowing it’s secrets, and returning to the usual blank darkness that was so hard to read. He questioned whether he’d actually seen the vulnerable expression at all. He couldn’t really trust his foggy mind right now.

He also couldn’t remember ever looking so closely at Keith’s eyes in the past. He wasn’t sure how he could’ve missed them. Maybe it was because they spent so much time hiding behind a defensive glare, or shrouded by Keith’s overgrown bangs. Lance didn’t know how he’d never noticed just how _pretty_ they were.

 

The rest of their conversation appeared to Lance in brief moments of clarity. He wasn’t sure how much time was passing. Just that the bottle kept getting passed back and forth and he would have seconds of self awareness in which he would realize how the two boys were slumped together, bodies leaning into one another more and more. He could feel the warmth pressed at his side; comforting and inviting. He found himself closing his eyes, and not remembering to open them. Eh, it was easier to just leave them closed.

“They were horrified!”

Keith choked on a laugh at Lance’s side. Lance felt himself relaxing into a sleepy state. Keith was just so warm next to him.

“Seriously, how was I supposed to know Alteans don’t know where milk comes from.”

He let his head fall to the side, curlining towards the warm body next to him on the couch. He felt warmed inside and out, that pleasant buzz of alcohol still flowing gently through him.

 

~

 

Keith pictured Allura and Corans horrified expressions after watching Lance retrieve their glasses of milk from under Kaltenecker.

“They didn’t even say anything. They just turned around and left the room at a brisk pace..”

Lance’s gentle laugh faded off into a mumble that Keith suddenly realized was very close to his side. He turned his head to look down and found Lance’s head resting against his shoulder. Keith tried to remember when that had happened but couldn’t.

Lance had closed his eyes and his left cheek was smushed up against Keith’s arm, resting on the bare skin beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt. Suddenly all Keith could feel was the softness of that cheek against his skin, like all his awareness was solely focussed on this small point of contact. It was so odd to think that only moments ago he had been completely oblivious to the sensation.

He felt his heart rate increase, and his awareness seemed to sharpen as his attention was brought to their current position. His chin was brushing through Lance’s hair, and fuck was that soft...and when he breathed in...it was like Lance had just gotten out of the shower, but the soft hair under his chin was completely dry. He smelled clean and fresh, with a small hint of sweet vanilla.

Keith was tempted to turn his head further, to nuzzle into Lance, run his fingers through that beautiful brown hair..and fuck no. This was getting out of hand. This was to much. Keith felt like his chest was constricting, making it hard to breathe.

Keith mentally shook himself back into that sharp aware state.

He raised his shoulder against Lance’s head.

“Mmmph…”

Lance’s head just lolled back into its last position.

“Come on, think it’s your bedtime.”

“Jus sleep here.” Lance murmured.

“Nuh-huh, come on Sharpshooter.”

Keith eased himself up, and Lance’s body fell to completely lie on the couch.

“Hmm”

Keith groaned.

“Lance, don’t make me do this.”

A lazy smile curled across Lance’s lips and he extended one arm haphazardly towards Keith. What a fucking prima donna.

Keith sighed, so this is how it was gonna be. He tried to steady his feet as much as possible and pulled on the extended arm.

Lance did very little else to help as Keith worked him to his feet.

Lance swayed dramatically and Keith recalled that he’d started drinking quite a bit earlier in the night than Keith had.

“Why I gotta deal with your drunk ass?”

Keith eased Lance’s arm across his shoulders to carry most his weight.

“Cus you’re my friend.... We’re friends right Keef?”

“Sure, Lance.”

Keith tried to focus on the task at hand and putting one foot in front of the other towards the door. He tried _not_ to focus on the body pressed up on his side, or the feeling of Lance’s lean waist under his hand.

This was not any better than the previous situation on the couch. If anything, it was worse. The sooner he got them both to bed in their separate rooms, the better.

 

…

 

They stumbled into Lance’s room. Keith staggered under their combined weight, just making it to edge of the bed before Lance fell from his grasp, sprawling face first across the mattress. His drunken laugh was muffled into the blankets.

“Mmph.” Lance wiggled further onto the bed, clumping up his comforter and curling around it.

“Bed.” He smiled and let out a contented sigh.

Keith felt his heart clench painfully in his chest again. What was _happening_ to him?

“Night, Lance.” Keith turned to head for the door, but was stopped when he felt long fingers curl around his wrist.

“Noo,” Lance whined. He pouted up at Keith.

“Stay.” Keith was still too unsteady on his feet and unprepared to resist when the hand pulled him down towards the bed. He fell very uncoordinatedly onto his back in the spot beside Lance.

“Oof.”

Lance giggled.

“Keef’s drunk.”

“Fuck off.”

Despite the pain in his chest and the logical voice in the back of his mind telling him he needed to leave, Keith was tired. His limbs felt so heavy and lazy, and that logical voice didn’t have the level of control to make them move and get back up. It felt too good to lie down.

“You’re such high maintenance,” he huffed.

“We’ve already established my diva status.” Lance sighed.

Lance moved the hand from his wrist to throw his arm over Keith’s stomach, kicking away the blankets and pulling Keith towards his chest. Somewhere in Keith’s mind this was alarming, his personal bubble-that he worked so hard to maintain- was quickly deflating in the space between their bodies. And Keith was still too foggy to be entirely aware. Half his brain wasn’t entirely convinced that he was still awake.

Again Keith felt the unusual urge to giggle. Of course, like before, he repressed it.

“Did you just... _giggle_?” Lance’s voice sounded sleepy but incredulous.

...Or he thought he’d repressed it..fuck. He _was_ drunk.

“Go to sleep.”

Lance’s breathing started to even out beside him, chin resting above Keith’s shoulder. Keith was losing the control he’d used to get them to Lance’s room. It had been a huge effort to try and sober up and now...well...he just felt tired.

Usually, Keith clung to his paranoia and anxiety, using them as tools to keep him alert, on edge, and isolated. They were abandoning him now. Leaving in their wake the thoughts he so often tried to ignore. Thoughts that all the anger and fighting to keep the world out, was..quite frankly..exhausting. And Keith was lonely.

Oh boy was he lonely…

...when he took the time to notice the feeling.

As hard as he worked, Keith didn’t want to be isolated. Especially not now. He wanted to let Lance’s arms pull him in closer. Wanted to be surrounded by the clean vanilla smell, and soft sighs by his ear.

And Keith did feel surrounded, in the most comforting way. Everything was soft, warm, and safe. Everything was dark bronzed skin, light shaggy hair, and blue _blue_ eyes. Everything about Lance was like fresh air. Nothing had ever made it so easy for Keith to breathe. To breathe and feel such overwhelming relief from the action. Keith just felt so light, the weight of the arm across his torso somehow replacing the weight he was used to feeling on his chest in the most wonderful way.

He felt surrounded in the same way water surrounds you. Cocoons and caresses every inch of you and makes you so wonderfully weightless. Closing his eyes, Keith’s memory suggested the image of cool blue tiled walls, and the gentle consuming sound of running water. He’d never fallen asleep so effortlessly and so immersed in the feeling of safety. In the feeling of not being alone.

Keith exhaled, and fell into his newfound weightlessness...

 

…

 

When Keith woke up, he felt confused. He was so accustomed to waking up in a jarring manner, jolted awake by some disturbing thought or dream. Feeling restless, and like he’d hardly slept in the first place (because usually he had hardly slept).

He was not used to _this_. This slow waking from deep contented, and long needed sleep. This gentle lull back to awareness. Which is why I took him awhile to take in his surroundings and piece together his memory of how he’d fallen asleep.

He gradually became aware of the body by his side, and gradually felt familiar panic rising to his chest.

He zeroed in on the points of contact between him and the figure sleeping innocently beside him, half of their body thrown over Keith’s, making one big tangle of limbs.

_Lance._

Lance’s arm was still thrown carelessly over Keith, half of his chest pressed over Keith’s, and one leg was sprawled across his hip, resting between his own legs.

Keith’s walls and defenses came crashing back into place with a terrifying force. They felt familiar and _right_ , but for the first time he felt like they were depriving him of so much. He felt contained in a prison of his own making. A prison that he was just now becoming so desperate to leave but had long ago decided he never would. That no matter how painful and lonely it got in here, it was safer if he tried not to breach these walls. He belonged locked up in here.

Despite how close the still unconscious Lance was to him, he suddenly felt miles away.

Keith felt like he couldn’t breathe. Or that he never had been able to breathe, he just normally wasn’t this aware of it because he’d learned to survive on such little air. And he wanted, he wanted to breathe so badly..

It was terrifying, it was dangerous, and it was _not okay._

Keith felt robotic, carefully shifting away, and untangling himself from the other boy. His muscles were so tensed, he felt like a stranger in his own body. Part of his mind took into account the time on the room’s digital clock, 6:15.

He stood and looked down to where Lance was still sleeping so peacefully, face slack and carefree, hair sticking in odd directions. Keith didn’t belong in those arms. Keith didn’t belong in this room. Keith didn’t belong anywhere near that golden picture that was Lance McLane, that face that even asleep just looked so vibrantly full of life.

Keith ran.

He didn’t have any destination in mind. He just welcomed the familiar burn in his muscles and lungs. He felt his body fill with the ache of exertion and it overpowered earlier sensation of his chest collapsing in on itself.

It wasn’t until he found himself bursting through the doors of the exercise room that he stopped running. He collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath.

He was shaking, and he wrapped his arms around himself desperately trying to hold himself in one piece.

So he liked Lance. There was no denying that now. But he didn’t like Lance in the same way he had liked boys in the past. Not that he didn’t like Lance’s strong long fingers, lean tall frame, sharp masculine jaw, and crystal blue eyes. He liked all those things. But he liked Lance _more_ . He liked it when Lance laughed, he liked it when Lance danced, he liked it when Lance talked about his family, and he liked it when Lance looked at him like he _cared_.

He liked Lance in a way that made him want all the things he had accepted he would never have. Things he had long ago made himself stop wanting. Lance made him want again. Lance made him yearn to be cared for, made him hunger with a desperation for concepts he scarcely understood the meaning of, things like _home, family, love._ Words that had lost meaning for Keith but meant so much to everyone around him.

Lance made him _want_ so desperately, and so terrifyingly. The same want that tore him apart as a kid, and hence had learned to give up on. It was all spilling back in full and overwhelming force, and Keith felt helplessly out of control for the first time in years. Lance made him want to be _close_ , to breach the distance that was spanning between him and everyone else. The distance he had spent years _putting_ between him and everyone else.

Across the room Keith’s eyes landed on the familiar red punching bag, and he didn’t hesitate to march toward it and let all his spinning thoughts course down his arm and power his fist forward.

He barely felt the pain in his bare knuckles from the first hit...or the second...or the third…

He let all the tension in his body release like a spring he’d been holding back, and felt the heat coursing upwards, blurring his vision. This was anger, pure and simple, clouding over all his other thoughts. It was mutated from the hurt, the pain, and the frustration, and far easier to process than anything else. Anger was a motivator.

Keith could work with anger, could channel it. He could use that anger to put miles between him and Lance, between him and everything that he was deprived of, everything that could hurt him.

Keith wasn’t gonna hurt like that again.

He knew that anytime he felt that pang in his chest, or felt light headed at the sight of Lance’s brilliant smile, he was just gonna have to work to push the anger back into focus.

He knew from experience, that he would have to force it back, but in a short while it should become automatic again.

 

He remembered the soft hesitant face, unsure, _“Do you..a..do you mind if I join you?”_

Punch _._

Freckles dusted under deep blue eyes holding his gaze, _“Are you the son of Poseidon?”_

 _Barf._ Kick.

Expression open, concerned, compassionate, _“Wish you had what?”_

 _Growl. Frown._ Punch _._

He recalled the feel of Lance’s cool long fingers brushing against his wrist _“Stay.”_

 _Scowl._ Kick _._

_“We are a good team.”_

_Huff._

Punch _._

His strength was waning and he felt the dull throbbing in his abused fists. He threw a few more half hearted punches. Feeling much more in control and rational, Keith mentally gagged the small part of him still pleading to go crawl back into bed with Lance and see what it would be like to breathe for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I desperately wanna just give my little emo nugget a hug. Sorry for all the angst, would it be klance without it tho?
> 
> If you're still with me from my first posting, i love you, thank you, i hope you have a beautiful day.
> 
> If you're a glutton for punishment and want more self inflicted klangst, or just wanna bother me, my tumblr is @ohmyquiznacks


	6. It Get's Worse...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just last night he remembers curling into Keith’s body heat on this very bed. Nuzzling his cold nose into the warm soft skin. Fuck, how hadn’t he realized how far gone he’d been. He didn’t know what he had when he had it. Didn’t appreciate it like he should have because he hadn’t known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I just wanna say that the people on here are so fucking lovely. Some other authors responses to my comments just liquidated me, and everyone who's commented on my fic has been beautiful..  
> so any who,  
> I'm sorry I've been distracted by a bunch of stuff lately, including VLD season5, guh. I needed more so badly i was starved. Also I was having writers block because aggressive klangst is way less fun to write than fluffy klance and drunk pidge. I'm sorry, please don't hate me. At least Lance realizes his feelings in this ch.

When Lance woke up, he found himself alone in bed. He would’ve been surprised to find Keith still in bed, especially with the clock reading 10:54 am. The red paladin was probably, wide awake and back on track with his excessive training. Oh well, baby steps. He was still making process, and had definitely gotten Keith to loosen up last night. He liked that side of Keith. Once he got over his usual unwavering doom and gloom moodiness he was fun to be around.

Lance absentmindedly found himself humming Fergalicious. He chuckled.

He sure as hell was never gonna forget _that_.

He’d never given much thought to Keith’s music taste, but he would’ve been far less surprised if Keith had know all the lyrics to some My Chemical Romance or 30 Seconds to Mars song. A flawlessly rapped verse of Fergalicious was deffinitely unnexpected.

That was an understatement. A day ago, Lance would’ve thought that Keith singing and dancing to an early 2000s pop song was about as likely as Zarkon wearing a tutu and performing Swan Lake.

Lance rolled lazily out of bed.

His throat was a little dry and he felt a little stiff from sleeping so soundly, but nothing could really put down his mood this morning.

 

...Apparently the same could not be said for Pidge. He found the youngest paladin and Hunk in the kitchen. Pidge was glaring down into a bowl of food goo, like the odd space concoction had done something to personally offend her. Hunk was leaning against the other side of the counter pushing a cup of water in her direction.

“Pidge, you would feel better had you drinken some of that water I left you with last night..Hey, Lance!”

“Morning, buddy.” Lance smiled, as he passed Hunk on the way to the goo dispenser.

“Honesty Pidge, what’s the point of me trying to take care of you when you’re not taking care of yourself?”

Pidge just grumbled incoherently around a mouthful of food goo. “Jus...nee...coffee.”

Lance whistled to himself as he collected a bowl for himself and sat down at the table.

“How you doin there Pidge?” He knew perfectly well how she was doing, but he just couldn’t help but rub it in.

Pidge huffed. “I could ask you the same thing, _Romeo_.” Huh?

“Wha-?”

Pidge smirked. “You guys are such morons.”

Lance frowned. “Yes Pidge I understand that your genius mind is frustrated with the rest of our mediocrity, but you’re gonna have to slow it down so I can catch up. What are you talking about?”

She looked up to give a knowing look at Hunk. “They’re fuckin unbelivable.”

And with that she picked up her bowl and slid her water towards Lance.

“For the thirst.”

Before Lance could figure out how to reply to that she had shuffled out of the room. Probably to chug a gallon of Altean replica coffee.

“Hunk what-”

Hunk seemed to be avoiding eye contact, and smiling sheepishly.

Suddenly Pidge’s discarded water was very interesting. Hunk sighed at it sadly.

“Why won’t she take care of herself?”

“Hunk.” Despite how easily distracted he was, Lance was determined to divulge whatever secret Hunk and Pidge had shared with that look.

Hunk ducked his head and raised a hand to the back of his neck.

“Lance, you know...when you fall, you fall hard.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hunk gave him a knowing look.

“Our first year at the Garrison, you screamed into your pillow every night for a month after blabbering about Rey.”

“Oh don’t be dramatic-”

“You memorized her schedule and planned out ways you could ‘accidentally’ bump into her in the halls. You actually color coded your day by day plan to, and I quote, ‘woo her gorgeous self harder than any girl has ever been wooed’.”

Maybe he had done that.

“Alright Hunk, I’m a hopeless romantic, you got me,” He answered. There was no point in getting defensive, his best friend knew him better than anyone else and had seen how obsessive Lance could get when he was crushing.

“What’s your point?”

“...you know I’m happy for you, like of course I am. I just- maybe like take it slow this time. Don’t charge straight in with all the romance you try to pull off...I just want you to be happy, and Keith scares easy...he’s not exactly Mr. Hopeless Romantic himself. I don’t want this to end up blowing up in you face.”

Lance bobbed his mouth open and shut like a fish out of water. He kept trying to form words but he really wasn’t sure what to say. His brain felt like it had just ingested a bunch of space goo and it wasn’t sure how to process it.

_Keith?_

Hunk thought him and Keith were-

What?

“K-k-keith?” He managed to garble.

Hunk looked at him like he _had_ actually turned into a fish.

“Um...ya?”

“Keith.” It seemed that his vocabulary consisted of only one word now.

“Ya…?” As did Hunk’s apparently.

“You think…” Lance was trying to make sense of this. “that...I like Keith?”

“Dude..ya.”

And just like that Hunk burst out laughing.

Loud open mouth laughter that shattered the still air of their stunted conversation and had tears running down his friend’s face.

“You-” Hunk gasped, trying to get words out between his laugh. “You don’t-oh my god.” He wiped his eyes. “Dude, Pidge was right, you’re both clueless.”

Hunk broke off into another stretch of loud laughter.

“But I don’t-”

Lance just felt frozen and so so confused. He also didn’t like feeling left out of whatever Hunk found oh so funny.

He couldn't really do anything besides stand there impatiently as Hunk’s hysteric fit ran it’s course.

“Dude, you like Keith.”

The words slapped him in the face. It wasn’t even a question. Hunk was _telling_ him. Lance couldn’t help but find it condescending.

He was an adult. He knew what he was feeling. And he _didn’t_ like _Keith_ . He felt insulted that Hunk would even assume to know his feelings better than he himself did. They were _his feelings_ , god damnit!

“No-” Quiznack, why couldn’t his stupid tongue even muster up the strength to _sound_ convincing? Wait. Why _couldn’t_ he sound convincing?

Hunk just seemed to be watching whatever myriad of emotions were playing across his face.

“I don’t-”

“Lance.” Lance turned to his friend, looking for some kind of direction, some guide book to follow through Lance’s Custom Carnival of Emotions™

“What ever happened to Rey at the Garrison? You stopped waiting in the hall for her.”

“Wha- I don’t know man, I guess I just gave up..”

“Lance,” Hunk sighed. “You don’t give up. Not when you like someone.”

“I stopped liking her?” Lance couldn’t quite remember why he’d wasted so much time pining after the girl in the class above them. Sure she was pretty, he thinks he remembers her being pretty. The whole faze just seems really insignificant now. It had been awhile since he’d fallen so hard. He hadn’t liked anyone _that_ much for...how long? Why was Hunk bringing this up now?

Hunk huffed, like he was frustrated with Lance or something.

“You never even mentioned her name again. Not after that day we were in the same flight training class as Keith. After that it was ‘Keith did this’, and ‘Keith did that’, and ‘why is Keith such a good pilot.’ Not to mention, my personal favorite, ‘Someone seriously needs to tell Keith that mullets don’t belong in this decade. His stupid haircut was so hideously distracting that it made me crash that simulated flight.’’

Lance vaguely remembers saying something along those lines, and he can’t ignore how childish it sounds coming out of Hunk’s mouth now. At the time, he knows he’d thought of it as bitter rivalry. But reconsidering his words, they sound undeniably like a toddler would if they had a crush on someone. The way a small child constantly brushes off their infatuation as dislike, annoyance, or any other strong emotion.

Great. Lance was a fucking preschooler, and Keith’s stupid mullet was like his crush’s pigtails that he’d been unrelentingly pulling on to gain their attention. Oh.

That was...pretty accurate.

Lance felt like this whole conversation had been underlined by the foreboding _tick tick tick_ of a roller coaster slowly climbing to the top of a steep fall. He felt his stomach plummet as he suddenly was flying downward.

He _had_ been trying to get Keith’s attention, like _all_ the time. He’d told himself it was because he wanted to prove that he was just as good, if not better, when really he’d just wanted Keith to see him.

When he said Keith’s mullet was stupid and ‘hideously distracting’, he really meant it was beautiful. He was only annoyed at himself for watching the silky black bangs, blowing in the wind to reveal pretty eyes, instead of keeping his eyes on the Garrison monitor.

Lance groaned and slumped onto the counter. He had it bad. Hunk was right. He was head over heels for a fuckin mullet and walking Hot Topic ad, and he was done for. Lance was at a loss.

After rushing through the rest of the metaphorical roller coaster at light speed Lance was overwhelmed by the steady buzz of excitement and adrenaline that comes with a crush. This feeling was combined with all the loop-d-loops his stomach had done, and he felt like he was gonna barf.

He resigned himself to making a sound like a disgruntled whale in labor.

“-unnngggggmmmmm.”

“Oh man, you really didn’t know.”

Hunk patted his hand on Lance’s shoulder sympathetically.

“I like Keith.” Lance whined.

“I like Keith and his stupid gloves, and his stupid mullet, and his stupid tight jeans that show off his ass, and his stupid pretty eyes….I like Keith a lot.” Oh god. Now that he realized it, he couldn’t shut of his stupid hormonal thoughts.

“Shhh, hey buddy, here.” Hunk slid the abandoned cup of water across the counter to Lance. “For the thirst.” Hunk’s mouth twitched trying to fight his grin.

Oh. Stupid gremlin Pidge. Lance scowled. “Too soon, Hunk, too soon.”

“What do you mean too soon? You’ve been gay for Keith for like a year.”

Lance frowned. ‘Gay for Keith.’ Lance was still adjusting to those words, and muddling through a whole swarm of feelings that came with them.

“But I didn’t _know_.” He whined hopelessly.

Was he gay for Keith?

Lance recalled the way his eyes had disobediently lingered on Keith’s toned arms and defined abs when they’d gone swimming. The way being close to Keith always made him heat up which, until recently, he’d mistaken for anger. But now he could recognize the countless times that heat had curled enticingly low in his stomach and warmed his cheeks.

What a fuckin idiot.

Lance was very ‘gay for Keith,’ as Hunk had so kindly clarified.

 

~

 

Keith was already drenched in sweat by the time everyone met up for their afternoon training. He hadn’t stopped working out all morning. As usual, his gloves hid his abused knuckles and his dark clothing reduced the appearance of sweat.

And here he was. Exhausted, irritated, and ready for more torture on his overworked muscles. _Bring it on bitch,_ he thought to the advanced technology of the training deck.

He heard everyone else as they entered the room. Hunk’s friendly and enthusiastic cheerleading statements gearing them up for training, a grumbling Pidge asking him to take the enthusiasm down a notch, Shiro calmly stepping into place beside Keith, and Lance, whistling to himself and practically skipping into the room..Ugh. Keith couldn’t even look at him. _Wouldn’t_ look at him.

He just had to focus on the drill. Keep it mechanical, logical, follow his instincts and fighting impulses. _And he needed the fucking whistling to stop._

“Keith.”

Keith looked up to the authoritative but concerned face looking down at him. He realized he’d been clenching his jaw, hands balled firmly into fists- probably splitting the raw skin on his knuckles.

“Hey, you okay?”

Keith huffed out a sigh, trying to ease some of his anger.

“Fine. Just tired.”

Shiro studied his face, probably looking for something more telling, and Keith carefully left his expression blank. Shiro knew he rarely got enough sleep and would probably be satisfied with the answer as long as Keith didn’t give him any other reasons to worry.

“Please try to take care of yourself, Keith.” Shiro raised his hand and then put it back at his side- he knew Keith well enough to have learned that patting him on the back was usually unwanted and rarely comforting.

Beyond Shiro, Keith couldn’t help but notice Lance dumbly staring at him with a weird look on his face, when Keith met his gaze, he quickly looked away and turned back with a sheepish smile.

God damn smiling idiot. The smile seemed to twist somewhere deep in his chest painfully. Why did a smile hurt? What the fuck was the idiot smiling at anyway? Keith glowered.

Lance’s smile wavered uncertainty, and he looked...almost..hurt?

Uh-uh. No way. Keith did not have time to feel guilty. He pulled his attention back to the room in front of him.

Small holographic obstacles were slowly flickering into shape around the room.

Coran had programmed what was basically a deconstructed version of the maze for the paladins to navigate.

Red holograms were like the walls of the invisible maze, and would deliver an electric shock on contact. The obstacle course also had a few blue holographic apparatus, which were safe to stand on or climb.

“Remember paladins,” Coran’s voice crackled over the speakers, “your goal is to maneuver about as a _team_.”

There were a few looks in Keith’s direction at this. He rolled his eyes at the implication.

“No paladin left behind. Cover each other from the drones’ fire as your crossing each obstacle.”

“All right, team,” Shiro began. “The drones will come into play after the first section. Remember to move as a unit and cover each other as Coran suggested.”

The first section of the course consisted of a series of moving holographic platforms that were safe to step on. The floor under them was red.

Fuck teamwork. Keith was ready to make this course his bitch.

He nimbly jumped across the first three platforms and got stuck waiting for the fourth platform to come down into range. Behind him he saw a blur of blue and warm brown hair, gracefully following his path.

Fuck it. The fourth platform was still slightly higher than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t want to be anywhere close to the boy behind him.

Keith leaned back and jumped as high as he could, the platform hitting him in the chest. He just barely managed to scramble up using his arms.

By the time he hawled himself to his feet, another body was landing beside him. Stupid fucking long legs.

“Whoop whoop!”

_Shut up._

Keith continued across the platforms in this manner. Lacking his usual agility and fluidity for the sake of staying one second ahead of the boy on his tail.

Ugh. This was so frustrating. On solid ground, Keith was easily faster and capable of putting distance between himself and Lance, but on these dumb platforms Lance’s lanky ass limbs had the extra reach.

And every fuckin time he landed on a platform it was announced with some cry of victory.

Every sound, every graceful jump, seemed to grate away at Keith’s tired nerves.

Finally Keith reached the large green platform that signaled the end of the first section, where he was supposed to wait for the rest of the team.

Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro were still less than halfway done. Hunk was helping Pidge cross the bigger jump gaps. He made a step with his hands like a springboard to help propel the small girl higher when she jumped, and Shiro caught her hand to help her scramble on to a particularly high platform.

The green platform was only about four square feet, and Keith made sure to move to the very edge of the far corner to make more than enough room as Lance landed next to him.

Lance dabbed victoriously. _Fucking_ dabbed.

“Ayee-”

“Do you ever just fucking shut up?” Lance abruptly cut off his celebration.

The idiot had the audacity to look wounded.

“Keith...did I do something wrong?”

“Ya.” Keith said simply.

“Um...Pray tell Mr. Edge Lord, what is it I did to make you oh so pissy today?”

“You just..ugh..everything okay? You did everything!”

Somewhere in Keith’s brain he knew he was being ridiculous and unfair, but he didn’t have time for that part of his brain. He just couldn’t deal with this right now. Keith felt like he was suffocating. Every look at that godamn face and every sound of that stupid voice just twisted in that oh so painful way in his chest, and Keith couldn’t take it.

“I did...everything?” Lance asked skeptically and took a step towards him.

That was too close for comfort.

“Whatever. Just shut up.”

Like Keith had said, fuck team work.

He turned around and faced the next section, which alternated between monkey bars and sections of swaying bridge.

Keith jumped to the monkey bars and sped through them.

Somewhere behind him he heard Shiro calling “Keith, wait!”

And somewhere to his left he heard the buzz of a drone.

He skipped over some bars, taking them two at a time, trying to get to the bridge faster and put more distance between him and that stupid Shakira wannabe standing on the platform.

Keith swung down onto the bridge and it swayed with his weight. He took the time to notice two flying drones closing in on either side. He remained facing forward, opening up his sword and shield, trying to watch the two separate approaches in his periphery.

The drone to his left fired and he rolled forward, dodging the laser.

How the fuck was he supposed to do the next set of monkey bars _while_ defending himself.

Whatever. He’d figure it out.

The drone on his right fired and Keith deflected it off his shield. Nice try bitch.

Suddenly, the bridge was swaying under him, and Keith spun around wildly to see Lance standing, gun in hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Uhh, helping you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Right, sure, because this course was totally not designed with the intent of someone covering your ass while you cross it.” Lance shot down one of the bots, and raised his own shield to block fired attacks from the other.

“I was doing just fine.”

“Sure you were.”

“What the fuck is your _problem?_ ” Keith rose his feet and fully faced the other boy.

“You know Keith, I really don’t know. Maybe you could _tell_ me.”

“You won’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“Keith...I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Shut up! Just seriously shut the fuck up. I can’t take any more of your stupid whiny voice.”

 

~

 

Lance felt frozen. Paralyzed on the spot. Just an hour ago he felt like he’d been injected with rainbows and fairy dust, and now...he felt like his limbs were infected with lead. It hadn’t mattered that Keith didn’t like Lance back in the same way. Lance had just been pretty sure that Keith liked him. And Lance could work with that. Lance could’ve lived off the brief doses of drunken cuddles, late night chats, and the gloriously adorable sound of a giggling Keith.

Lance could’ve survived off those things alone. Let them sustain him as he slowly worked his way to more; the yearning daydream of Keith swooning in his arms.

Lance couldn’t live with this. The look of menacing hatred on Keith’s face that shocked Lance to the core. Keith _hated_ him. It felt like the ground beneath his feet was turning into space goo and Lance couldn’t do anything about it.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder pulling him back, away from Keith.

Shiro crowded into the space between them, obscuring Lance’s view of the other boy.

“Keith, cool it. Go take a walk. Get some sleep if you can. Just take some space.”

Lance hadn’t even noticed when Coran had powered down the simulated course. His feet were now well off the green platform but he hadn’t been shocked. Or maybe he had. He wasn’t too sure he would’ve noticed right now.

The rest of the team was standing around, looking at Keith in concern, the exercise forgotten. Allura and Coran had come down from the control center.

“No, it’s fine. I can do this Shiro.” Lance peaked around Shiro’s broad frame.

“Keith.” Shiro’s tone changed to a little harsher, demanding attention. “You’re done for today.”

For a second, Keith looked like he was ready to fight Shiro, but then his shoulders sagged, without any of the tension leaving his body.

“Fine.”

Keith spun on his heal and briskly walked out of the room.

The room was silent. Not even Coran seemed to have anything to say. One by one they turned to look at Lance.

The shock that had paralyzed his body was slowly unfurling, stinging at his eyes and throat.

“I…” Lance’s voice broke and he tried again, this time more forcefully.

“I have to go.”

Lance practically ran from the room. And when he reached the hall, he did run, flat out sprinted the rest of the way back to his room. He flopped down on his bed and gave in.

Sobs racked his body and in no time he felt hot pools of tears wetting the blanket pressed into his cheeks. He wiped snot from under his nose.

God, this was terrible for his skin care. Lance couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Once again he was too much for people. Him and his stupid spastic heart, with all its overly sensitive feels had done it again.

The worst part was, Lance hadn’t spent the usual amount of time getting his hopes up, he’d realized the extent of his feelings only just this morning. And the rejection stung just as bad as it had in the past, if not worse. Keith might as well have reached into Lance’s chest and grabbed his heart, leaving a big aching black hole in its place.

He found himself replaying every moment from the past few nights in his head. All the memories that had felt so good and bubbly were horribly tainted now, and bitterly painful. Everytime he remembered looking deep into those pretty deep violet eyes and melting, the memory would shift, morph into the image of those eyes staring at him in accusing disgust.

And everytime, those eyes ripped through the cavity of his chest and triggered another series of broken sobs.

Lance couldn’t figure out what had happened.

Just last night he remembers curling into Keith’s body heat on this very bed. Nuzzling his cold nose into the warm soft skin. Fuck, how hadn’t he realized how far gone he’d been. He didn’t know what he had when he had it. Didn’t appreciate it like he should have because he hadn’t _known_.

And he hadn’t known how bad this was gonna hurt.

Lance pulled on the bed covers, burying his tear soaked face. He sniffled, and choked down a sob when he realized that the blankets still smelled like Keith.

It was faint, and a scent Lance hadn’t realized he’d committed to memory, hadn’t realized was so comfortably familiar, but it was so distinctly _Keith_.

Lance wasn’t sure how much time passed. He might’ve dozed off between a few more restless fits of painful heartbreak.

He was startled what was probably a few hours later by a knock on the door.

 

Lance froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY.  
> this will be fixed.  
> I CAN FIX THIS.  
> and also I'm going to fix it super soon because I desperately need to.  
> Please please stay with me.  
> I could never leave my little cuban sunshine and emo nugget in such pain. I love them too much.
> 
> spoiler : a later ch is called, "Before It Gets Better."....so theres that hopeful future bit


	7. The Pidge Has Been Released

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...the people who fight for you, the people who care for you, and make your life a little more whole. You have to hold those people close and never let go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said I would fix it... I really meant Pidge would fix it.  
> Somehow the small disgruntled ball of sass keeps running away with my fic and I swear I don't know how it happens.
> 
> But God bless pidge, and her no nonsense, get your heads out of your fucking asses pep talks

“Lance? Buddy?”

Oh. Hunk.

Relief and disappointment flooded Lance’s system simultaneously. He dragged himself to the door, hitting the button on the wall to open it.

Hunk quickly looked him over. Lance was sure he looked a mess. It saved Hunk the trouble of asking if he was ok, they both knew he clearly wasn’t.

“Lance..I’m so sorry..”

Lance sagged into his friend’s open arms, breaking down into fresh tears.

Hunk carried him back into the room, closing the door behind them. He lead Lance over to the bed, and sat down with his arms still around him.

“Shhh, buddy, shhh...you’re gonna make me cry too.”

Lance hiccupped. “I’m sorry, man. I just…” His attempt at speaking devolved into more crying.

Hunk just held him and rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“I just-I don’t know what I did-I…..He hates me, Hunk. I can’t do this, I can’t even look at him. I can’t be here when-when he hates me so much. I’m not good enough to be here. I just want to go home. I miss mama and-”

“Hey.” Hunk cut of his break down. “Don’t do that. Don’t do that thing that you do, where you feel bad about one thing and let it spiral into everything you feel bad about.”

Lance just nodded into Hunk’s shoulder, trying to calm his thoughts and pace his breathing.

“Buddy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you about your crush this morning.”

And just like that Hunk, the hypocritical sensitive softie that he was, was spiralling into his own emotional turmoil. “It was such bad timing. I should have just waited like a good friend and let you work through it in your own time. Oh..this is all _my_ fault.”

“No, no-” Lance turned to comfort his friend, but was stopped.

“Pleeeasse.” A disgruntled voice huffed outside the door, it swung open to reveal Pidge’s small silhouette in the hall.

She stepped into the room with a canteen that was probably a quarter of her size, and likely filled with her newfound supplement for coffee.

“Let me stop you right there-Hunk, you crying and getting all upset is _not_ going to help him.”

She took a noisy sip of the caffeinated drink in her hand. “This is neither of your faults, although you’re certainly not making it any better. We all know that Keith is an emo little shit with his own issues and anger management struggles.”

Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You two need to work it out. I am really not in the mood for this today.”

Pidge sighed again, like slowing her anger and expressing some sympathy was far too much of an effort.

“Look, Lance.” She tried with a softer tone. “That really sucked. I know it did. We all know it did, and it wasn’t fair to you, you didn’t deserve it. But try to pick yourself up. We can fix this. We all just need to put in a little effort, especially Keith. Speaking of which,”- and that was that for the soft sympathetic tone-

“I am going to go track that little shit down and give him a piece of my mind. I have held my tongue long enough, what with all the pining and super prologued gay staring during training and fights. There’s only so much a person can take. Today was not the day to test me. Apparently you two idiots are incapable of effectively communicating with one another, or even your own fucking emotions. I am going to fix this stupid mess you preschoolers have made.” Pidge spun around back towards the door, “Do I have to do everything on this ship myself?”

The small, hungover, but caffeinated ball of disgruntled rage steam rolled out the door, and towards whatever direction her next target was hiding in.

Lance looked up at Hunk in helpless shock. Hunk just blinked back down.

So it appeared that Lance had never gotten off the roller coaster from this morning. His life now just consisted of one big emotional roller coaster. He hadn’t even been following half of what Pidge had said…’prolongued gay staring’? Oh god. Had that been him? Had he been doing that and not even aware? No wonder Keith hated him, he was pathetic

“Did-did that just happen?”

“Ya...I’m afraid it did. We tried to keep her at bay and let you two each have some alone time, but once she refilled her coffee, all bets were off. The Pidge has been released.”

Lance was staring dumbly at the place Pidge had last been standing. Everytime his brain seemed to land on a reasonable emotional response state, something would throw him off into another tailspin, such as the force of nature that was, Pidge Holt.

He was unable to process the past 24 hours.

God he needed a facial, a milkshake, and a bubble bath. Lance _really_ missed baths. He could use some aromatic candles and a good bath bomb right about now. Preferably one with body glitter.

“Hey Lance, what do you say I make you a special snack. You missed dinner.”

Lance looked at the big golden teddy bear next to him, god had he lucked out in the best friend department.

“Ya,” he smiled gratefully. “Ya, that’d be good.”

 

~

 

Keith had spent the past-however long it had been- wondering around the lowest level of the castle. The lights down here were permanently dimmed to conserve energy, but when they lowered until they were practically off, Keith knew it had passed 8:00 pm in the castle’s simulated Earth day. Good, he was ready for this stupid day to be over.

The constant motion of walking around and pacing the halls had worked to lower the intensity of his thoughts, but Keith was tired. It wasn’t just a physical tired, it was an all out draining, ‘my brain is turning into soup and I feel like I’ve entered the twilight zone’ kinda tired.

Keith entered the closest room- one of the ships many empty bedrooms- and just collapsed. As soon as he lay down on the large bed, he felt each of his limbs sinking, settling into place for the long run. It was like he was being pinned down by his own body, and without the distraction of movement he was left a prisoner to the relentless hyperactivity of his thoughts.

Keith wasn’t stupid (maybe just incredibly stubborn) he knew that his emotions probably happened for a reason and demanded attention. He also knew that avoiding them and aggressively fighting them away probably wasn’t healthy, but that didn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

It was like the very apparent dead weight of his body was saying, ‘alright bitch, I am done being used as an ineffective coping mechanism, so I’m gonna lie here, and you’re gonna deal with your shit for once.’

Keith didn’t have the energy to be angry anymore, anger was exhausting, especially when it was a forced emotion to cover up everything else going on. And being angry at Lance today hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped, it was unstable. Keith hadn’t been able to control it when Lance had been so close on that stupid obstacle course. It was like the further he’d tried to get away from it all, the closer Lance had gotten, and that lack of control was terrifying. Keith had felt like a cornered animal, he’d just had to get away, and that panic had overruled all other thinking.

And now that he _was_ away, he couldn’t get over the broken look on Lance’s face, the _hurt_. No matter how hard Keith tried, he couldn’t stop caring about that hurt. He wished he had never let Lance in. Never gotten to the place where he was so familiar with that beautiful face. The place where a small smile on that face could reach inside Keith, to a place he hadn’t thought it was possible for anyone to reach anymore, and make it feel seen. But he hadn’t known that was happening, wasn’t even sure when it had started, until he realized that the damage that face could do when it showed that level of hurt. That damage cut just as deep.

And Keith caused that hurt.

This is why Keith ran. This is why he shouldn’t have let _this_ , whatever this was, start. Keith was broken, and broken pieces didn’t fit into place with the colorful mosaic of someone else’s life. Broken pieces corrupted those pretty images.

 

A memory resurfaced. A really old memory, fuzzy and muddled by years of hiding away.

In the memory Keith had small hands, pudgy, with dimples in soft flesh where knuckles should be. His hands looked ever smaller when they were held in larger ones, strong callused hands, worn with use.

Hands that went with the broad, lined face of his father.

“Your mother wanted you to have this..”

His father placed the intricate dagger across his small palms, which in turn laid across only one of his adult hands.

“Where is mamma?” Keith remembered asking.

“Your mother and I loved each other very much, but we came from two different worlds, and there's only so much distance people can cross to be together. She could only leave two pieces of herself with me, she wanted you to have this one.” He said, folding Keith’s fingers around the hilt of the knife. His small digits could barely encircle the entire handle.

“Sometimes life has a way of separating us from the people who matter. But Keith, the people who fight for you, the people who care for you, and make your life a little more whole. You have to hold those people close and never let go.”

His large hand tightened over Keith’s gripping harder to the smooth leather of the knife’s handle.

“I might never see your mother again, but I hold her close every day, and I know. Somewhere out there, she’s holding you close. And no matter where we go, neither of us are ever gonna let go.”

At the time, Keith hadn’t fully known what his father’s words meant, just that they were very very important. And Keith never let go of that knife.

He unconsciously reached down to where he kept the blade in his belt today.

It was one of the only memories Keith had of his father’s face, or voice, but it had been stored away in his young mind, with the serious look in deep set eyes, ringed with wrinkles and tan skin from squinting into the sun.

Not long after that, his father stopped coming home one day. Keith hadn’t known why, just that no matter how close he held that knife, the real people that mattered always seemed to disappear. Somewhere along the way, Keith had decided that it was better if he had less people who mattered, less people he had to hold on to since he didn’t seem to be very good at it.

Until Shiro. He let Shiro in, felt less alone for a little while. More because Shiro seemed see something in Keith no one else had. Shiro had pushed Keith, given him a chance to prove he could be good at something, and in Shiro’s eyes he had _felt_ good at something. And just when he’d started feeling like he was going somewhere, had another person and goal to be tethered to in his life. Just like Keith’s parents, one day Shiro was gone. Keith hadn’t let go, he’d kept looking every day until he found Shiro again, but that didn’t change the fact that he now lived with the fear of losing him, had to scramble around the ship looking for the familiar white streak of hair to reassure himself and make his heart stop racing.

Now there was no way for Keith to put the distance back between him and Shiro. Shiro was already close, and Keith held on with a white knuckle grip that kept him up at night. But there was still time for Keith to put the distance between him and Lance. Maybe not for him. But at least for Lance, at least so that Keith didn’t infect him with his corruption.

The thought made Keith lonely. Incredibly lonely, but he couldn’t afford losing more people, and he couldn’t afford putting pain on that face again.

He felt the sad empty ache in his chest, but it wasn’t violent, wasn’t unbearable. It was just tired, Keith could live with being tired. He’d had a lot of practice.

He resigned himself to the dull ache, and started to drift into his exhaustion.

His conscious was just fading when he was startled awake.

_“KEITH MR. GRUMPY PANTS KOGANE!!”_

Was that...Pidge..? Her voice crackled once more out of the ship’s loudspeakers.

_“You better meet me in your lion hanger in 10 minutes.”_

He could...just not go. He could stay here and sleep, it’s not like she’d be able to find him.

_“I have access to the ship’s security system and I am not afraid to use it to track you down.”_

Oh fuck. There couldn’t be a security camera covering every hallway, could there? Plus these lower level hallways had pretty bad lighting.

Keith crawled his way up the bed and pulled the covers up over his head. He was not dealing with this now. Why couldn’t everyone on this god damn team just leave him the fuck alone. He decided to take his chances...

 

Keith was ripped away from the sweet relief of sleep by the sound of the room door opening and a victorious screech.

“Oh no…” Keith curled further into the fetal position. If only he’d taken the time to hide more effectively. He’d just been so tired.

“Keith.”

He pulled the blankets tighter over his head. “Go away, Pidge.”

“Oh, I am _so_ done with this childish behavior.”

Pidge pulled on the covers experimentally.

“Keith.”

She’s was tryin pretty hard, but Keith was _not_ gonna be intimidated by the little gremlin. He was still partially of the belief that if he just stayed still enough under the covers this would all magically go away.

“Keith, I feel like Haggar is building another Naxzela bomb inside my cranium with the day I’ve had, and you should not test me right now. I am not going anywhere.”

He felt the bed shift under someone else’s weight, as Pidge crawled to a sitting position against the wall next to him. Then he heard a sigh and the sound of someone sipping noisily on a drink.

Keith groaned. Let’s just get this the fuck over with. He cautiously eased out from under the covers. Pidge was looking at him over the brim of an obscenely large canteen. Her singular raised eyebrow clearly conveyed the message ‘ _really bitch?_ ’

Keith pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall beside her.

Pidge just continued to stare him down while sipping at her drink.

“What?”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what?”

“This. This little emo pity party. Stop going off into small dark corners and hiding under covers and brooding.”

Keith scowled.“I don’t do that.”

Pidge looked pointedly at the blankets still covering half his body. Keith pushed them away and crossed his arms defensively.

He stared the small girl down rebelliously. Two could play at that game.

PIdge sighed again. “Keith, I am not having a staring competition with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because, this isn’t working for you.”

“This works fine for me.”

“Keith, stop pushing all of us away. You’re not alone in some little desert shack anymore.”

 

Someone cleared their throat awkwardly. They both looked up to see Shiro standing in the hall. Obviously, he’d been able to find Keith thanks to Pidge.

“Oh!” Pidge’s eyes lit up. “I just remembered, I need to go recharge Rover, his battery’s about to die and I have him working on this super important project.”

She hopped down from the bed and passed Shiro with a salute in acknowledgement, “Space dad.”

The door closed behind her as Shiro stepped into the room frowning in confusion.

“Um..We really need to ration her caffeine intake.”

“Agreed.”

They both sat there in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“Keith-”

“Look, Shiro,” Keith cut him off before the lecture could begin. “I know I lost it today, I let the exhaustion get the better of me, but look I’m taking care of myself,” Keith gestured to his position in the bed.

“I promise I’ll do better. I already feel much more clear headed. I just shouldn’t have lashed out the way I did, I would never let that get in the way of a mission. You know I take Voltron very seriously.”

“Keith-” Shiro sighed, like he was as tired as Keith was. He probably was, Shiro had enough shit to deal with, without the adolescent outbursts of the other team members.

“I don’t want you to get over this. All you ever do is get over things for the sake of everyone else. And you always handle it alone like this. You don’t have to. You don’t have to push Lance away, or anyone else here for that matter.”

“Shiro, I do,” oh boy, confession time. “I like Lance.”

“I know.”

“No like..” Keith huffed, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “I _really_ like Lance.”

God, poor Shiro didn’t sign up to be a kindergarten teacher.

“I know.”

“You-what?”

“I know Keith.”

“You-I…-uh..oh.” Keith felt his cheeks heat up.

Shiro looked a little flushed too, like this conversation was just as embarrassing for him.

“Why don’t you try being nice to him, letting someone in for once?”

“I let you in.”

“Hardly, Keith.”

“But I can get over it. I just need a little time, I’ll work this out.”

“Just..Keith just try something different for once. You deserve to be happy. You can’t keep doing this forever. Taking care of yourself isn’t just sleeping and eating, it’s letting other people care about and take care of you.”

“But I-” again Keith was aware of just how overwhelmingly tired he was. The gags loosened on that voice in his head, the one that had wanted to crawl back into Lance’s arms just this morning. It felt like years ago. It felt like an unbearable amount of time had passed since he’d had that brief reprieve, those breaths that had come so easily, that weightlessness.

“Promise me you’ll at least try it.”

“How?”

Shiro cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Why don’t you just start small. Just give Lance a compliment or something.”

Dear god. Keith’s tired brain caught up to the conversation they were having. Shiro was giving him dating advice. The urge to hide back under the blankets returned.

Keith cleared his throat, “Uh ok, uh I think I’m just gonna try and sleep some more.”

“Yeah, ok, good. That’s good. We’re taking the day off tomorrow again. I mean it this time. Day off, means day off. No training for the next 24 hours.”

“Ya, ok. And...and I will try.” Keith was beginning to feel like he really was done fighting. He really wanted to stop feeling so lonely and angry, and just so Goddamn tired.

“And Shiro?” Shiro turned from the door. “Thanks.”

“You know, I’m here Keith, If you need me. Get some rest.”

 

Keith pulled the knife from its place at his side. He crawled back under the covers and left his hand curled around the knife under the pillow.

_“...the people who fight for you, the people who care for you, and make your life a little more whole. You have to hold those people close and never let go.”_

Keith thought of Lance, the way that he had come undone wrapped up in those arms. Nestled against the other boy’s side, how he’d just felt so close, so not alone. So whole.

Maybe he should try listening to his father’s words. The thought terrified him. The possibility of losing someone he let in. It had been so long since he’d let in that kind of love. But the thought also sounded so beautifully good. So desirable, so relieving.

_“Just give him a compliment or something.”_

He could do that, he could start there.

Keith drifted off into a more peaceful sleep than before.

 

~

 

Lance wandered into the ship’s bridge. He went over to the control panel for the holographic map and entered a few memorized coordinates.

Coran had showed him how to find Earth. He navigated the map in that direction, heart sinking, as it always did, when facing the evidence of just how far away it was.

Finally he reached his galaxy and solar system. He zoomed in until the entire map was filled with the rotating blue and green sphere.

Lance crawled over to one of the big chairs, curling up, and leaning back to just look at the rotating image. It wasn’t like he was gonna get much sleep tonight anyway, despite being so exhausted. His eyes followed Cuba as it popped in and out of his view on the moving globe.

It was so small in the scheme of things. Smaller still, was his two story, 5 bedroom house, stuffed full of people. Lance felt like crying, but he was all cried out. And his mood had been elevated after Hunk had made him that interesting space cake.

('Interesting', because it wasn’t any kind of familiar flavor or texture, but of course, being made by Hunk, it was delicious anyway.)

He didn’t know what was gonna happen tomorrow, apparently it would be another day off from Voltron training. Lance thought of going swimming again, but was saddened by the thought that this time Keith wouldn’t join him.

It’s true that Keith _had_ joined him. Meaning that at some point in time he’d had a chance, before he inevitably screwed it up.

Maybe he could fix whatever had gone wrong. He didn’t feel optimistic. But he felt determined, he could at least pull himself together and try for the sake of the rest of the team. He felt a little empowered by Hunk and Pidge’s support.

Under the surface, Lance was an insecure person. He took everything personally, and found a way to feel responsible for everything and everyone around him. But Lance had always been good at fabricating confidence, putting on a show for the cameras.

He tried to build up some hope, even if it was just a very little, that he could pull this off. Tomorrow was a new day. Hunk was right, he _didn’t_ give up. He could be patient, he could wait this out.

Step one, Keith needed some space. Lance could be patient, give him some, heck, they were _in_ space Keith could have all the space he needed.

Like he said, Lance was persistent, _he didn’t give up._

It seemed he’d had a roadblock, but he’d just forgotten…

Lance looked again at the space where Cuba was, floating around in the vast Atlantic Ocean, sitting on a planet that was floating around in the vastness of space. His family was there, his home was there, he just needed to remember that..

...he was Lance Razzle Dazzle McLane and he _did not_ give up, god dammit.

...He would totally feel more confident about that if he was able to take a sparkly bubble bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...well now that some annoyingly dense people..ahem..Lance...ahem..Keith...Have come to terms with their own emotions, maybe they can finally get this show on the road.
> 
> I hope you guys are still with me...all the positive feedbacks and comments has me REALLY not wanna let you down.  
> Please come yell at me on tumblr if you so wish 
> 
> @ohmyquiznacks


	8. ...Before It Get's Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confession time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay okay, I'm so sorry. I was busy and I also was having major writers block. But I really didn't want to let the fic die off. So after many attempts at staring at a blank document and then closing it back up, I just forced myself to sit down and crank this shit show out. I hope its okay. Gah you all have been so amazing and the comments have completely broken my emotions they're so wonderful. I wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't for your responses. I started this fic writing for me, and now I am writing for you guys.

Lance wasn’t sure how long he’d been curled up in the oversized control room chair. He’d dozed in and out of restless sleep and he had a stiff neck. Not to mention, the pains in his joints from being curled up for so long.

Despite all this, he would’ve been content to stay in the chair for a lot longer. Out of everyone’s way. Out of  _ Keith’s _ way. The team probably worked better without him in the middle slowing their progress and creating unnecessary friction. 

Even though he was determined to wait out Keith’s temper, it didn’t mean he was looking forward to the possibility of running into him today.

He could already predict the tangible pain in his chest every time he saw Keith’s face. Everytime he remembered that look of hatred it had worn; the look of complete disgust that he had been responsible for.

Yeah, so it was best to just stay out of sight. There was no reason that he should be around to make things worse.

Except his stomach was not a huge fan of this plan. Nor was his bladder.

He was only human, and he was gonna have to take care of these things sometime.

 

After reaching the bathroom, he decided other priorities were his skin and hair care routines. He could just  _ feel _ the place where his face had been resting for hours on his propped hand. Undoubtedly, he had transferred all sorts of microscopic dirt onto his skin, and pushed it into his poor defenseless pores. He could  _ feel _ the oncoming war that was about to break out across his skin, he just  _ knew _ it.

And man, he was hungry, but his stomach could just  _ wait. _

 

…

 

The shower wasn’t quite the sparkly bubble bath he’d been yearning for, but the warm water felt nice on his sore joints, and he relished the cool sensation brought on by his mint face scrub and the wonderfully sweet clean aroma of his vanilla shampoo…

Or you know...Altean vanilla equivalent?

God bless Allura’s pampered royal upbringing and wide selection of beauty products. Lance swears he would’ve lost his mind by now if it weren't for the vast collection of fancy Altean bottles and tubes Allura had given him full access to. A boy just needed a little bit of self care time to keep his sanity, you know?

After cleaning up, he felt like a new man, it was like he had washed all the residue and memory of yesterday’s tears down the drain. He could do this. He would wait around as long as it took to make Keith like him again. 

Combing his hair into place, he winked and shot finger guns to his mirror self. Now he could get food.

 

…

 

When Lance reached the kitchen, he was pleased to find only Coran and Shiro left, eating lunch. The rest of the team had probably slept in and only just finished breakfast. These two early birds were probably refueling from an already nauseatingly productive morning. 

Of course, Keith was also an early riser, but he didn’t tend to linger in communal spaces during the day, he would’ve just stopped in and snagged food in a portable form before fleeing back to some quiet empty room...Lance tried not to think about that. Or about how he was equal parts sad and relieved to have not crossed paths with Red’s paladin. 

“Lance, my boy!” Coran greeted him with an energetic salute. Shiro just gave a small nod and subtle smile. “See you made the most of the extra time to sleep in. Perhaps that means you got enough pip in your pep, to help me sorting through some storage bins, today?”

Lance inwardly groaned. There was no way he was gonna refuse Coran, but it meant a few hours worth of ‘Why, back when I was a young Altean...’ stories.

“Sure thing Coran! I’ll come find you later this afternoon.”

“Excellent! I knew I could count on you!”

Wasn’t like he had anything else to do today. Lance collected a bowl from the cabinets and began serving himself from the goo machine on the wall.

“As I was saying Shiro, the Narnlians were a fascinating species, indeed. Evolution taking a whole different path in the development of communication. No vocalization necessary! Imagine! Their brains contained specialized cells for duplicating thoughts into chemicals they could pass from one to another!”

Shiro nodded quietly across the table, humming occasionally as his contribution to the conversation.

Lance shoveled goo into his mouth. He was hungry enough that he didn’t even scrunch up his nose at the normally disturbing texture. He made the decision to just finish eating from his spot by the machine, keeping his gaze down, to avoid engaging and inadvertently signing up for the history lecture Shiro had enrolled in. 

The trapped man in question cleared his throat. “Hey, Keith.”

Keith? Oh wait shit no. Lance stared down into his bowl of goo, shoveling his mouth full at a faster pace.

He refused to look up. He was not looking up.

Shiro cleared his throat again awkwardly, like he was the one dealing with all this uncomfortable first-sighting-since-confrontation tension. “Uh, Lance just got here to grab breakfast too.”

Oh, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blurry Keith figure turning in his direction. Obviously, Keith hadn’t seen him when he’d entered the room. Was it too late to duck behind the counter? Probably.

“Oh..ya I was just, uh gonna grab a small bite.”

Lance quickly shuffled out of the way, opting to continue downing his space goo at record speed on the other side of the kitchen.

Silence ensued.

He just kept his eyes on that spoon. He would not look up.

He kept inhaling space goo, as the silence persisted.

Why oh why was Coran choosing now of all times to show restraint? 

The sound of himself swallowing down the last bit of goo seemed so loud now, like it was echoing around the room. 

Out of food, he stared dumbly down into the bowl. He was  _ not _ gonna look up.

The sound of the space machine whirring back to life overtook the silence.

Lance looked up, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped towards the sudden noise. And after he looked up, his head didn’t want to go back down.

Keith’s back was to him as he filled his own bowl. And just that familiar mullet and red jacket caused Lance’s heart rate to increase. 

Shiro cleared his throat causing Keith to turn around.

What was  _ with _ Shiro’s throat today??

Keith looked at Lance.

And that face.. those eyes, had Lance’s heart racing faster, and simultaneously falling straight down to his feet. He felt a lump in his throat. 

God, imagining seeing Keith’s face was one thing. But actually seeing those eyes, shyly meeting his own with a small smile, was another.  _ Keith hated him. _

Lance looked away. He shouldn’t have eaten so fast, now he felt like there was still goo stuck in his throat and he just couldn’t swallow it down. Maybe Shiro was having the same problem.

Wait. Hold up. Keith was...smiling?! That couldn’t be right.

His head whipped back to look. 

Keith was smiling at him. 

At him. Keith. Smiling.  _ Apologetically.  _

Lance was obviously struggling to think in full coherent sentences. 

Keith looked a little unsure of himself, but he was smiling alright. 

“Hey.”

And God, Keith was so cute when he sounded so unsure, and guilty, and shy. He sounded so gentle and soft, and so very un-Keith. 

And just like that Lance’s heart went from his feet, to floating around in the endless space beyond the ship’s walls.

Lance commanded his face to respond and smile, even as his mind struggled to catch up to what was happening.

Shiro cleared his throat.

Keith’s eyes flitted in Shiro’s direction and some kind of understanding dawned on him. 

“Oh. Um..”

Keith took a few uncertain steps toward Lance until he was only a few feet away. He smiled shyly again. And  _ oh my god _ , that smile, with hooded eyes peeking out between overgrown bangs. 

Wherever Lance’s heart was, floating around outside the ship, it was now also melting.

Keith glanced once more at Shiro, and looked back at Lance determinedly. He raised his eyes, pursed his lips, and looked at Lance as if he were a mission. Some task to overcome. Suddenly he was all business; the usual, professional, competitive Keith Kogane that Lance was used to seeing.

 

“I like your ass.”

He gave a small curt nod, like he was approving of Lance’s choice of shirt today. Then he spun on his heel and walked briskly out of the room.

Shiro slammed his face into his palm.

Gah. uh. Um. uh?

Lance waited for his soul to re-enter his body. 

He had been in many battles since joining Voltron. Many times in a healing pod when things got a little hairy. But this was by far the closest to death, he had ever come.

And he just, he needed a minute, okay?

Just...give him a minute.

 

~

 

Abort mission. Abort mission. Of fuck oh fuck oh fuck. That was soooo not what Shiro meant.

_ What the fuck Keith??? _ He felt like his face was on fire.

Whyyy the fuuckkk? Where did that even come-

_ Well Keith _ , he thought to himself. It probably came from all those hours you’ve collectively spent  _ checking out Lance’s ass. _

But he wasn’t supposed to  _ say _ that.

He sure had some real fuckin good people skills.

He threw himself onto his bed. Why was he even  _ trying _ this, again?

Fuck you, Shiro.

Keith didn’t people well. (yes that is a verb, yes, thank you. Because it requires effort, and action, and general  _ doing _ . And so yes, for Keith, ‘people’ is a verb.) 

Keith couldn't people well. Which is why..*cough.. _ Shiro _ , he should not be  _ trying _ to people.

Ugh.

 

There was a knock on the door.

UGH.

Keith strode across the room. Whoever this was, Shiro, Pidge...he was not gonna let them talk him into more uncomfortable  _ peopling. _ He was done. He’d tried it. Now he was just gonna go back to kicking Galra ass and enjoying the blissful quietness of space he came here for.

So they could just fuck off-

“H-hey Keith.” Lance looked down at the hall floor shuffling his feet.

“Can I come in?” 

Oh. Um..Fuck shit fuck.

“Ya...sure.”

Keith walked back into the room leaving the door open for Lance to follow, and putting a good amount of space between them.

“Hey buddy, are uh” Lance cleared throat, “uh are you okay?” 

“Am I …’ _ okay _ ’?” Keith tested the word out. Was he ok? Keith didn’t think that, by definition, the word ‘ok’ had ever applied to him very well.

The whole, answering a question with a question seemed to make Lance uncomfortable, he still refused to make eye contact. 

Keith wasn’t used to seeing Lance this uncomfortable, in fact it was hard to make Lance uncomfortable, the kid was shameless.

“Yeah...it’s just...I’m sorry I’m probably the last person you wanna talk to right now. Like I appreciate you trying..to uh..’make amends?’..”

That was a generous way to put whatever  _ that _ had been in the kitchen.

“...And I know you’re not my biggest fan right now, so that meant a lot, but I thought I’d try, because I know I did something to bother you and..”

Lance straightened up, balling his fists together, and finally meeting Keith’s eyes.

“I wanna fix it. Just tell me what I did wrong. I  _ promise _ I won’t do it again.”

Oh man, Lance was looking at Keith like a puppy dog who had been kicked, eager and willing to do anything to win back approval. 

Again, Keith felt the horrible weight of guilt. He didn’t like how familiar it was becoming.

“Lance, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was just...I’m just.”

He tried again.

“I’m weird.” He should be a poet.

Lance deadpanned and cocked his head to the side. “Uh-huh..”

Keith took a breath. This really went against all his defensive programming.

“I-I...I was dealing with some stuff, and I took it all out on you, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. You-you really didn’t deserve that.”

Relief slowly crawled across Lance’s initial look of surprise.

“It-it’s okay.” He smiled kindly. “Do-do you..uh... wanna talk about it?”

What?

“I-I just did.” 

“No,...uh...whatever was bothering you so much yesterday.”

“Oh.”

No he did not. Because the topic in question was that he wanted to push Lance up against the door and assault his face...with...his own face. Yep, that poetry career was looking promising. 

The problem was that, even now, cells in his body were screaming at him to go throw himself into Lance’s arms, while a lifetime of being alone was telling him to run the complete opposite way. 

What was  _ bothering _ him was that his mind was at war with itself, and the only thing he seemed capable of doing was fusing his feet to the spot in panic, because he really didn’t know which way to run anymore. 

So no...He couldn’t really talk about that, could he?

 

But also.

 

Keith’s motto in life was ‘Fuck it’. He’d already come this far, and pushed his luck, and screwed things up a few times over, so why not do it again? So..

Fuck it.

“I like you, Lance.”

His eyes darted over every inch of Lance’s face looking for a reaction. Lance’s face was typically so expressive, theatrically contorting in a split second, giving away his extreme emotions.

It was the complete opposite of Keith, and one of the things Keith loved most about him. It’s what made Lance so genuine and open, a complete reveal of all his vulnerable moments, and they were each made beautiful in their own way.

But at this very moment, Lance’s features seemed to have slowed in reaction time, and Keith couldn’t read them. 

Keith help his breath, having just enough time for dread to start crawling up his spine before-

Lance’s features warmed in a friendly resolve.

“Thanks, man. I was really convinced after yesterday that you absolutely  _ hated _ me. And it kinda sucked, so thanks, because I thought we’d come a long way, and I like you too.”

Lance beamed.

This. Idiot.

“No, Lance, I  _ like _ you.”

“Yeah, I like you too, I thought we were getting along and everything. And I liked swimming and hanging out late at night, and I liked being friends and not fighting and…”

_ Are you fucking kidding me?  _ What was Keith gonna have to do. Stupid fucking  _ peopling _ . Here he was trying, for once, to be up front, and go for something he wanted, trying to connect to another person…trying to be selfish...and this boy was fucking  _ oblivious.  _

And he also wasn’t shutting up. 

“...It was so much better when we worked together on missions, and we really make a good team, ya know?...”

Keith came to the conclusion that he was just gonna have to  _ make _ Lance shut up.

He crossed the room, closing the distance between them in a few decisive steps.

Lance took an uneasy step back like he thought Keith was about to attack him...which would actually...not be entirely wrong...just...in a different context.

“I fuck-I was blabbering and I’m sorry. I’m fucking this up again aren’t I? I-”

“Lance! You are not making this easy.” Keith practically growled. 

He was getting very impatient. Either way, he just wanted this over with. He just wanted a blunt, up front response for once. And he also wanted to kiss Lance. Like  _ really _ wanted to kiss him. Like yesterday.

“I’m sorry-”

Keith grabbed the sides of Lance’s head, holding him in place. 

Fuck it. Keith stopped fighting himself. Stopped trying to be in control. 

He leaned forward and aggressively smashed their mouths together.

It wasn’t ideal. But Keith wasn’t trying to make anything of it, he was just trying to make a point.

He pulled back to look angrily into Lance’s wide eyes.

“Oh…”

Lance blinked at him in shock.

“You,  _ like _ me.”

“Yeah, dumbass.”

“Are you sure?”

What th-

“Yes, I’m sure! What the fuck does that mean.”

Lance’s face broke into a huge grin. “You liiiiiiikkee me.” He sung out.

“Yes, you fuckin idiot.”

Lance wiggled his eyebrows up and down and smiled smugly.

“Like what you see, Samurai?” he winked.

Ugh.

“You know what, forget I said anything. It’s fine, I’ll forget about it too.” Keith started to take a step back.

“Nnnonono-Keith!” Lance grabbed his wrists pulling him back.

He bit his lip, looking down and glancing back up.

“I like you to.”

Someone connected a helium pump to the inside of Keith’s chest.  _ Lance liked him. _

Lance really was prettiest when he was happy. He looked absolutely radiant. Like Keith could swear, his blue eyes were sparkling. Glittering like the surface of the ocean under the sun. Lance was just made for looking happy. That was the look that belonged on that face. 

“Ya?”

“Ya.”

“Really?”

Lance smiled “Really.”

Keith could die looking at that face and he really wouldn’t mind.

He would’ve minded if he’d died looking at that face as broken as it had been a day ago, or as broken as when it had first entered this room. As broken as  _ Keith _ had made it look.

 

Oh shit oh shit oh shit no.

 

Lance liked him.

Fear blossomed in Keith’s chest. Deflating the helium. Lance  _ cared _ about him. That meant he could hurt Lance. That meant him and his stupid broken insides could affect Lance.

Oh no ohnohno. Suddenly the space between them was so so so small. That wasn’t right, there was supposed to be distance, far divides between himself and any other person. 

His head started yelling at him to run again. He wasn’t made for being this close to other people. He was a bomb ready to get off, and he had to keep the damage radius he could create far away from other people. 

He pulled backwards, forgetting that Lance was still holding his wrists. Lance didn’t let go.

In fact, Lance pulled him closer.

“Keith, hey...I-it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Fuck what had he done.

“Keith, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Lance’s eyebrows pulled down in concern. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

Keith’s eyes began darting around the room looking for an escape.

 

“Hey.”

 

Keith looked up into those eyes. Those overwhelmingly soft blue eyes. Keith could melt into those eyes. 

Could forget all the reasons, he should not be letting himself melt into those eyes...

And he did. Just a little bit, before…

Lances fingers traced up from his arm and gently wove into the hair at the back of his neck. It was soothing, draining the panic from the rest of his body, but also raising his pulse for whole other reasons.

Keith could hear his heartbeat, thundering around his head. His eyes darted back and forth between Lances eyes and mouth. Was this actually happening?

Wait, there was a reason this shouldn’t be happening, right? Keith couldn’t quite remember.

Their faces were so close and Lance’s lips looked so soft. 

Nononoonono...he shouldn’t do this.

But yesyesyesyesyesyes...he  _ wanted _ to do this. And that terrified him.

The urge, familiar and deeply programmed into the structure of his very biology at this point, the urge to just run away, from everyone, and everything. It was slowly fading, dissipating in the wake of the newfound urge...for  _ more. _ For Lance.

“Keith….can I kiss you?” Lance asked softly. 

Keith’s head nodded without him even asking it to.

Lance’s fingers gently coaxed him forward. 

And then his lips brushed Lance’s. Keith shivered. The lightest of touches felt like it had made every nerve in Keith’s body stand at attention, felt like electricity had shot straight from his lips down through the rest of his body. All the panic that had flooded his system moments ago was completely sidetracked. All his focus trained acutely on the tingling in his lips, the soft buzzing memory of that electric shock.

“Is this ok?” Lance asked nervously, his breath hot against Keith’s lips. 

Keith could only managed a small nudge forward of his head in affirmation. 

Lance pulled his head in, closing the last bit of separation and Keith found himself falling into the pressure between them. 

He was unraveling in Lances arms and the feeling was both thrilling, terrifying, and everything he ever needed. He felt surrounded by everything  _ Lance _ . All he could smell was that clean fresh vanilla. And everything was soft soft lips, and soft soft arms wrapped around him. And he felt so safe. The only place he wanted to run any more was further into those arms.

Lance’s lips were moving against his, gently coaxing him like the hand still pulling on the back of his neck.

Keith traced his tongue along Lances bottom lip questioningly and a soft moan passed from Lance’s mouth. 

The sound hummed between them and Keith cherished its echo on his skin. 

Lance’s hand at the small of Keith’s back pulled him impossibly closer, pressing their bodies together. Somehow they could never be close enough to satiate the growing need in Keith’s chest. 

He found himself growing urgent, having never experienced this before and fearful of never having it again. His spiked heart rate and overly attentive nerves fueled his feeling of desperation.

He wanted everything Lance’s lips had to offer. He wanted those long delicate fingers to brush against every inch of him. He wanted to touch, kiss, and cherish every part of this boy. 

Lance’s arms held him frustratingly still, slowing him, trying to keep the nature of their kiss gentle.

He twirled his tongue around Lance’s while his hands slipped down his chest, searching for  _ more _ . 

And fuck was Lance good with his tongue.

Normally, Keith would fight for control, but he was really done with that battle and if he were to ever give it up, now was the time. Because he was really ok with what Lance was doing, and he was perfectly happy to just let this happen.

His fingers caught on the bottom hem of Lance’s shirt, pulling upward, pressing his palms against warm skin. 

He felt Lance’s body tremble against him and the feeling was powerful. 

He could feel Lance smiling against his lips, could feel his own mouth turning upwards at the corners in response. 

Lance pulled back an inch and let out a soft breathless laugh. 

_ No come back _ every cell of Keith’s being seemed to whine.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting forever to do that.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE IT'S OKAY because I just felt like I HAD to get another chapter out and this is just what transpired when I glued my fingers to my keyboard. I honestly was inspired to try writing because of the emotional impact other peoples fics had on me, and I just wanted to be able to to create that for other people, and hearing from some of you that I have, has made writing this SO SSO gratifying. I am writing this for you, and that is why your opinions and reactions mean the world to me. And please let me know how i do, so I can try to give you the absolute best you guys deserve it. I LOVE YOU.
> 
> lol sorry for the essay, y'all brought it out of me.
> 
> also, my tumblr is now a klangst support group...cus I needed one of those


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